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GASCOYNE 

THE SANDAL-WOOD TRADER 











































































































































































































































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-- 

GASCOYNE 

The Sandal-wood Trader 

BY 

. ^ALLANTYNE 

Author of “ Coral Islandetc. 

Edited by BROOKES MORE 




1923 

THE CORNHILL PUBLISHING COMPANY 
BOSTON 







Copyright 1923 

By THE CORNHILL PUBLISHING COMPANY 


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C1A704865 




Printed in the United States of America 


THE JORDAN & MORE PRESS 
BOSTON 


JUN14’23 


vi o 


EDITOR’S PREFACE 


“ ASCOYNE” has for nearly half a century 
been considered a boys’ classic ; and when it is 
conceded that the times have so rapidly changed since 
the date this book was written, we must come to the 
conclusion that it is a book of permanent interest; as it 
so ably portrays the stirring scenes that will never 
return upon the earth. 

When this book was written it was habitual, and we 
might say the style of authors to introduce a good deal 
of moralizing. It was really a bad practice because the 
interest of the tale was thereby weakened. As editor of 
this book, therefore, I have left the author’s words un¬ 
changed, and have simply confined myself toward cutting 
out a few dreary pages of moralizing. Not a single 
incident has been omitted, corrected or changed, and 
the language is just as the author wrote it. 

Brookes More 


CONTENTS 


CHAPTER PAGE 

I The Schooner . i 

II Bumpus is Fiery and Philosophical — 

Murderous Designs Frustrated . . 8 

III A Rough Walk Enlivened by Rambling 

Talk — Bumpus is “Agreeable” . . 18 

IV The Missionary — Suspicions, Sur¬ 

prises, and Surmises.28 

V The Pastor’s Household — Prepara¬ 
tions for War.45 

VI Suspicions Allayed and Re-awakened . 57 

VII Master Corrie Caught Napping — 

Snakes in the Grass.65 

VIII A Surprise — A Battle and a Fire . . 73 

IX Baffled and Perplexed — Plans for a 

Rescue.85 

X The Pursuit — Poopy, Led on by Love 

and Hate, Rushes to the Rescue . . 94 

XI A Ghost — a Terrible Combat Ending 

in a Dreadful Plunge.101 

XII Dangerous Navigation and Doubtful 
Pilotage — Montague is Hot, Gas¬ 
coyne Sarcastic.120 

XIII Doings on Board the “Foam” .... 130 

XIV Greater Mysteries than Ever — a Bold 

Move and a Clever Escape . . . . 139 

XV Remarkable Doings of Poopy — Extra¬ 
ordinary Case of Resuscitation . . 146 

XVI A Wild Chase — the Sandal-Wood 

Trader Outwits the Man-of-War . 158 








CONTENTS 


CHAPTER PAGE 

XVII The Escape. 171 

XVIII The Goat’s Pass — an Attack — a 

Bloodless Victory.179 

XIX Sorrow and Sympathy — the Widow 

Becomes a Pleader.188 

XX Mysterious Consultations and Plans 

— Gascoyne Astonishes His Friends . 200 

XXI A Terrible Doom for an Innocent Man 212 
XXII The Rendezvous — and Other Matters 228 

XXIII Plans Partially Carried Out — a Seri¬ 

ous Misfortune.240 

XXIV An Unexpected Meeting — Gascoyne’s 

Despair.250 

XXV Surly Dick — the Rescue. 265 

XXVI The Capture and the Fire . ... 273 

XXVII Pleading for Life. 283 

XXVIII A Peculiar Confidant—More Diffi¬ 
culties .293 

XXIX Bumpus is Perplexed — a Curious 

Leave-taking.303 

XXX More Leave-taking — Deep Designs . 310 

XXXI The Ambush — Escape — Conclusion . 319 










GASCOYNE 

THE SANDAL-WOOD TRADER 























0 













GASCOYNE 

The Sandal-Wood Trader 


CHAPTER I 

THE SCHOONER 

T HE Great Pacific is the scene of our story. On a 
beautiful morning many years ago, a little schooner 
might have been seen floating, light and graceful as 
a sea-mew, on the breast of the slumbering ocean. She was 
one of those low black-hulled vessels, with raking, taper 
masts, trimly cut sails, and elegant form, which we are 
accustomed to associate with the idea of a yacht or a pirate. 

She might have been the former, as far as appearance 
went, for the sails and decks were white as snow, and every 
portion of brass and copper above her water-line shone in 
the hot sun with dazzling brilliancy. But pleasure-seekers 
were not wont, in those days, to take such distant flights, 
or to venture into such dangerous seas — dangerous alike 
from the savage character of the islanders, and the numer¬ 
ous coral reefs that lie hidden a few feet below the surface 
of the waves. 

Still less probable did it seem that the vessel in question 
could belong to the lawless class of craft to which we have 
referred; for, although she had what may be styled a wicked 


4 


GASCOYNE 


aspect, and was evidently adapted for swift sailing, neither 
large guns nor small arms of any kind were visible. 

Whatever her nature or her object, she was reduced, at 
the time we introduce her to the reader, to a state of in¬ 
action by the dead calm which prevailed. The sea re¬ 
sembled a sheet of clear glass. Not a cloud broke the 
softness of the sky, in which the sun glowed hotter and 
hotter as it rose towards the zenith. The sails of the 
schooner hung idly from the yards; her reflected image was 
distorted, but scarcely broken, by the long gentle swell; her 
crew, with the exception of the watch, were asleep either on 
deck or down below, and so deep was the universal silence, 
that, as the vessel rose and fell with a slow, quiet motion, 
the pattering of the reef points on her sails forcibly attracted 
the listener’s attention, as does the ticking of a clock in the 
deep silence of night. A few sea-birds rested on the water, 
as if in the enjoyment of the profound peace that reigned 
around; and, far away on the horizon might be seen the 
tops of the palm-trees that grew on one of those coral 
islands which lie scattered in thousands, like beautiful 
gems, on the surface of that bright blue sea. 

Among the men who lay sleeping in various easy off¬ 
hand attitudes on the schooner’s deck was one who merits 
special attention — not only because of the grotesque ap¬ 
pearance of his person, but also because he is one of the 
principal actors in our tale. 

He was a large powerful man, of that rugged build and 
hairy aspect that might have suggested the idea that he 
would be difficult to kill. He was a fair man, with red 
hair and a deeply sun-burned face, on which jovial good- 
humour sat almost perpetually enthroned. At the moment’ 
when we introduce him to the reader, however, that expres- 


THE SANDAL-WOOD TRADER 


5 


sion happened to be modified in consequence of his having 
laid him down to sleep in a sprawling manner on his back — 
the place as well as the position being, apparently, one of 
studied discomfort. His legs lay over the heel of the 
bowsprit; his big body reposed on a confused heap of 
blocks and cordage, and his neck rested on the stock of an 
anchor, so that his head hung down over it, presenting the 
face to view, with the large mouth wide open, in an upside 
down position. The man was evidently on the verge of 
choking, but, being a strong man, and a rugged man, and 
a healthy man, he did not care. He seemed to prefer 
choking to the trouble of rousing himself and improving his 
position. 

How long he would have lain in this state of felicity it is 
impossible to say, for his slumbers were rudely interrupted 
by a slight lurch of the schooner, which caused the blocks 
and cordage attached to the sheet of the jib to sweep slowly, 
but with rasping asperity, across his face. Any ordinary 
man would have been seriously damaged — at least in 
appearance — by such an accident; but this particular sea- 
dog was tough in the skin — he was only awakened by it 
nothing more. He yawned, raised himself lazily, and 
gazed round with that vacant stare of unreasonable surprise 
which is common to man on passing from a state of somno¬ 
lence to that of wakefulness. 

Gradually the expression of habitual good-humour settled 
on his visage, as he looked from one to another of his 
sleeping comrades, and at last, with a bland smile, he broke 
forth into the following soliloquy: — 

“ Wot a goose, wot a grampus you’ve bin, John Bumpus: 
firstly, for goin’ to sea; secondly, for remainin’ at sea; 
thirdly, for not forsakin’ the sea; fourthly, for bein’ worried 


6 


GASCOYNE 


about it at all, now that you’ve made up your mind to retire 
from the sea, and, fifthly-” 

Here John Bumpus paused as if to meditate on the full 
depth and meaning of these polite remarks, or to invent 
some new and powerful expression wherewith to deliver his 
fifth head. His mental efforts seemed to fail, however, for 
instead of concluding the sentence, he hummed the follow¬ 
ing lines, which, we may suppose, were expressive of his 
feelings as well as his intentions — 

“ So good-bye to the mighty ocean, 

And adoo to the rollin' sea, 

For it's nobody has no notion 
Wot a grief it has bin’ to me.” 

“ Ease off the sheets and square the topsail yards,” was 
at that moment said, or rather murmured, by a bass voice 
so deep and rich, that, although scarcely raised above a 
whisper, it was distinctly heard over the whole deck. 

John Bumpus raised his bulky form with a degree of 
lithe activity that proved him to be not less agile than 
athletic, and, with several others, sprang to obey the order. 
A few seconds later, the sails were swelled out by a light 
breeze, and the schooner moved through the water at a rate 
which seemed scarcely possible under the influence of so 
gentle a puff of air. Presently the breeze increased, the 
vessel cut through the blue water like a knife, leaving a 
long track of foam in her wake as she headed for the coral- 
island before referred to. The outer reef, or barrier of 
coral which guarded the island, was soon reached. The 
narrow opening in this natural bulwark was passed. The 
schooner stood across the belt of perfectly still water that 
lay between the reef and the shore, and entered a small bay, 
where the calm water reflected the strip of white sand, 



THE SANDAL-WOOD TRADER 


7 


green palms, and tropical plants that skirted its margin, as 
well as the purple hills of the interior. 

Here she ; swept round in a sudden, but graceful curve, 
until all her canvas fluttered in the breeze and then dropped 
anchor in about six fathoms water. 


8 


GASCOYNE 


CHAPTER II 

BUMPUS IS FIERY AND PHILOSOPHICAL—MURDEROUS DE¬ 
SIGNS FRUSTRATED 

The captain of the schooner, whose deep voice had so 
suddenly terminated the meditations of John Bumpus, was 
one of those men who seem to have been formed for the 
special purpose of leading and commanding their fellows. 

He was not only unusually tall and powerful — physical 
qualities which, in themselves, are by no means sufficient 
to command respect — but, as we have said, he possessed a 
deep full-toned bass voice in which there seemed to lie a 
species of fascination, for its softest tones riveted attention, 
and when it thundered forth commands in the fiercest 
storms it inspired confidence and a feeling of security in all 
who heard it. The countenance of the captain, however, 
was that which induced men to accord to him a position of 
superiority in whatever sphere of action he chanced to 
move. It was not so much a handsome as a manly and 
singularly grave face, in every line of which was written 
inflexible determination. His hair was short, black, and 
curly. A small moustache darkened his upper lip, but the 
rest of his face was closely shaven, so that his large chin 
and iron jaw were fully displayed. His eyes were of that 
indescribable blue colour which can exhibit the intensest 
passion, or the most melting tenderness. 

He wore a sombre but somewhat picturesque costume — 
a dark-coloured flannel shirt and trousers, which latter were 
gathered in close round his lower limbs by a species of 


THE SANDAL-WOOD TRADER 


9 


drab gaiter that appeared somewhat incongruous with the 
profession of the man. The only bit of bright colour about 
him was a scarlet belt round his waist, from the side of 
which depended a long knife in a brown leather sheath. A 
pair of light shoes and a small round cap, resembling what 
is styled in these days a pork-pie, completed his costume. 
He was about forty years of age. 

Such was the commander, or captain, or skipper, of this 
suspicious-looking schooner — a man pre-eminently fitted 
for the accomplishment of much good or the perpetration 
of great evil. 

As soon as the anchor touched the ground, the captain 
ordered a small boat to be lowered, and, leaping into it 
with two men, one of whom was our friend John Bumpus, 
rowed towards the shore. 

“ Have you brought your kit with you, John?” inquired 
the captain, as the little boat shot over the smooth waters 
of the bay. 

“ Wot’s of it, sir,” replied our rugged seaman, holding- 
up a small bundle tied in a red cotton handkerchief. “ I 
s’pose our cruise ashore won’t be a long one.” 

“It will be long for you, my man, at least as far as the 
schooner is concerned, for I do not mean to take you 
aboard again.” 

“ Not take me aboard agin!” exclaimed the sailor, with 
a look of surprise which quickly degenerated into an angry 
frown, and thereafter gradually relaxed into a broad grin 
as he continued — “ why, cap ting, wot do you mean to do 
with me then, for I’m a heavy piece of goods, d’ye see, and 
can’t be easily moved about without a small touch o’ my 
own consent, you know.” 

Jo Bumpus, as he was fond of styling himself, said this 


10 


GASCOYNE 


with a serio-comic air of sarcasm, for he was an exception 
to the general rule of his fellows. He had little respect 
for, and no fear of, his commander. Indeed, to say truth 
(for truth must be told, even though the character of our 
rugged friend should suffer), Jo entertained a most pro¬ 
found belief in the immense advantage of muscular strength 
and vigour in general, and of his own prowess in particular. 
Although not quite so gigantic a man as his captain, he 
was nearly so, and, being a bold self-reliant fellow, he felt 
persuaded in his own mind that he could thrash him, if 
need were. In fact, Jo was convinced that there was no 
living creature under the sun, human or otherwise, that 
walked upon two legs, that he could not pommel to death 
with more or less ease by means of his fists alone. And in 
this conviction he was not far wrong. Yet it must not be 
supposed that Jo Bumpus was a boastful man or a bully. 
Far from it. He was so thoroughly persuaded of his in¬ 
vincibility, that he felt there was no occasion to prove it. 
He therefore followed the natural bent of his inclinations, 
which led him at all times to exhibit a mild, amiable, and 
gentle aspect — except, of course, when he was roused. As 
occasion for being roused was not wanting in the South 
Seas in those days, Jo’s amiability was frequently put to 
the test. He sojourned, while there, in a condition of 
alternate calm and storm; but riotous joviality ran, like a 
rich vein, through all his chequered life, and lit up its most 
sombre phases like gleams of light on an April day. 

“You entered my service with your own consent,” 
replied the captain to Jo’s last remark, “ and you may 
leave it, with the same consent, whenever you choose; but 
you will please to remember that I did not engage you to 
serve on board the schooner. Back there you do not go 


THE SANDAL-WOOD TRADER 


11 


either with or without your consent, my fine fellow, and 
if you are bent on going to sea on your own account — 
you’ve got a pair of good arms and legs — you can swim! 
Besides,” continued the captain, dropping the tone of sar¬ 
casm in which this was said, and assuming a more careless 
and good-natured air, “ you were singing something not 
long since, if I mistake not, about 1 farewell to the rolling 
sea,’ which leads me to think you will not object to a short 
cruise on shore for a change, especially on such a beautiful 
island as this is.” 

“I’m your man, cap ting,” cried the impulsive seaman, 
at the same time giving his oar a pull that well-nigh spun 
the boat round. “ And, to say wot’s the plain truth, d’ye 
see, I’m not sorry to ha done with your schooner, for, 
although she is as tight a little craft as any man could wish 
for to go to sea in, I can’t say much for the crew,— saving 
your presence, Dick ”— (he added, glancing over his shoul¬ 
der at the surly-looking man who pulled the bow oar). 
“ Of all the rascally set I ever clapped eyes on, they seems 
to me the worst. If I didn’t know you for a sandal-wood 
trader, I do believe I’d take ye for a pirate.” 

“ Don’t speak ill of your messmates behind their backs, 
Jo,” said the captain with a slight frown. “No good and 
true man ever does that.” 

“ No more I do,” replied John Bumpus, while a deep red 
colour suffused his bronzed countenance. “ No more I 
do; leastwise if they wos here I’d say it to their faces, for 
they’re a set of as ill-tongued villains as I ever had the 
misfortune to — ” 

“ Silence!” exclaimed the captain, suddenly, in a voice 
of thunder. 

Few men would have ventured to disobey the command 


12 


GASCOYNE 


given by such a man, but John Bumpus was one of those 
few. He did indeed remain silent for two seconds, but it 
was the silence of astonishment. 

“ Capting,” said he, seriously, “ I don’t mean no offence, 
but I’d have you to know that I engaged to work for you, 
not to hold my tongue at your bidding, d’ye see. There 
ain’t the man living as’ll make Jo Bumpus shut up w’en 
he’s got a mind to — ” 

The captain put an abrupt end to the remarks of his 
refractory seaman by starting up suddenly in fierce anger 
and seizing the tiller, apparently with the intent to fell 
him. He checked himself, however, as suddenly, and, 
breaking into a loud laugh, cried — 

“ Come, Jo, you must admit that there is at least one 
living man who has made you ‘ shut up ’ before you had 
finished what you’d got to say.” 

John Bumpus, who had thrown up his left arm to ward 
off the anticipated blow, and dropped his oar in order to 
clench his right fist, quietly resumed his oar, and shook 
his head gravely for nearly a minute, after which he made 
the following observation: — 

“ Capting, I’ve seed, in my experience o’ life, that there 
are some constitootions as don’t agree with jokin’; an’ 
yours is one on ’em. Now, if you’d take the advice of a 
plain man, you’d never try it on. You’re a grave man by 
natur’, and you’re so bad at a joke that a feller can’t quite 
tell w’en you’re a-doin’ of it. See, now, I do declare I wos 
as near drivin’ you right over the stern o’ your own boat 
as could be, only by good luck I seed the twinkle in your 
eye in time.” 

“ Pull away, my lad,” said the captain, in the softest 


THE SANDAL-WOOD TRADER 


13 


tones of his deep voice, at the same time looking his re¬ 
prover straight in the face. 

There was something in the tone in which that simple 
command was given, and in the look by which it was 
accompanied, that effectually quelled John Bumpus in 
spite of himself. Violence had no effect on John, because 
in most cases he was able to meet it with superior violence, 
and in all cases he was willing to try. But to be put down 
in this mild way was perplexing. The words were familiar, 
the look straightforward and common enough. He could 
not understand it at all, and, being naturally of a philo¬ 
sophical turn of mind, he spent the next three minutes in 
a futile endeavour to analyse his own feelings. Before he 
had come to any satisfactory conclusion on the subject, the 
boat’s keel grated on the white sand of the shore. 

Now, while all that we have been describing in the last 
and present chapters was going on, a very different series 
of events was taking place on the coral-island, for there, 
under the pleasant shade of the cocoa-nut palms, a tall, 
fair, and handsome youth was walking lightly down the 
green slopes towards the shore in anticipation of the arrival 
of the schooner, and a naked dark-skinned savage was 
dogging his steps, winding like a hideous snake among the 
bushes, and apparently seeking an opportunity to launch 
the short spear he carried in his hand at his unsuspecting 
victim. 

As the youth and the savage descended the mountain-side 
together, the former frequently paused when an opening 
in the rich foliage peculiar to these beautiful isles enabled 
him to obtain a clear view of the magnificent bay and its 
fringing coral reef, on which the swell of the great Pacific 
— so calm and undulating out beyond — fell in tremendous 


14 


GASCOYNE 


breakers, with a long, low, solemn roar like distant thun¬ 
der. As yet no object broke the surface of the mirror-like 
bay within the reef. 

Each time the youth paused the savage stopped also, and 
more than once he poised his deadly spear, while his glaring 
eyeballs shone amid the green foliage like those of a tiger. 
Yet upon each occasion he exhibited signs of hesitation, 
and finally lowered the weapon, and crouched into the 
underwood. 

To any one ignorant of the actors in this scene, the in¬ 
decision of the savage would have appeared unaccountable; 
for there could be no doubt of his desire to slay the fair 
youth — still less doubt of his ability to dart his formidable 
spear with precision. Nevertheless, there was good reason 
for his hesitating, for young Henry Stuart was well known, 
alike by settlers and savages, as possessing the swiftest foot, 
the strongest arm, and the boldest heart in the island, and 
Keona was not celebrated for the possession of these quali¬ 
ties in any degree above the average of his fellows, although 
he did undoubtedly exceed them, in revenge, hatred, and 
the like. On one occasion young Stuart had, while de¬ 
fending his mother’s house against an attack of the savages, 
felled Keona with a well-directed blow of his fist. It 
was, doubtless, out of revenge for this that the latter now 
dogged the former through the lonely recesses of the 
mountain-pass by which he had crossed the island from 
the little settlement in which was his home, and gained the 
sequestered bay in which he expected to find the schooner. 
Up to this point, however, the savage had not summoned 
courage to make the attack, although, with the exception 
of a hunting-knife, his enemy was altogether unarmed, for 
he knew that in the event of missing his mark the young 


THE SANDAL-WOOD TRADER 


15 


man’s speed of foot would enable him to outstrip him, while 
his strength of frame would quickly terminate a single 
combat. 

As the youth gained the more open land near the beach, 
the possibility of making a successful cast of the spear 
became more and more doubtful. Finally the savage 
shrunk into the bushes and abandoned the pursuit. 

11 Not here yet, Master Gascoyne,” muttered Henry 
as he sat down on a rock to rest; for although the six miles 
of country he had crossed was a trifle, as regarded distance, 
to a lad of nineteen, the rugged mountain-path by which 
he had come would have tried the muscles of a Red Indian, 
and the nerve of a goat. “You were wont to keep to time 
better in days gone by. Truly it seems to me a strange 
thing that I should thus be made a sort of walking post 
between my mother’s house and this bay, all for the bene¬ 
fit of a man who seems to me no better than he should be, 
and whom I don’t like, and yet whom I do like in some 
unaccountable fashion that I don’t understand.” 

Whatever the youth’s thoughts were after giving vent to 
the foregoing soliloquy, he kept them to himself. They 
did not at first appear to be of an agreeable nature, for he 
frowned once or twice, and struck his thigh with his 
clenched hand, but gradually a pleasant expression lit up 
his manly face as he gazed out upon the sleeping sea, and 
watched the gorgeous clouds that soon began to rise and 
cluster round the sun. 

After an hour or so spent in wandering on the beach 
picking up shells, and gazing wistfully out to sea, Henry 
Stuart appeared to grow tired of waiting, for he laid him¬ 
self down on the shore, turned his back on the ocean, pib 


16 


GASCOYNE 


lowed his head on a tuft of grass, and deliberately went to 
sleep. 

Now was the time for the savage to wreak his vengeance 
on his enemy, but, fortunately, that villain, despite his 
subtlety and cunning, had not conceived the possibility of 
the youth indulging in such an unnatural recreation as a 
nap in the forenoon. He had, therefore, retired to his 
native jungle, and during the hour in which Henry was 
buried in repose, and in which he might have accomplished 
his end without danger or uncertainty, he was seated in a 
dark cave moodily resolving in his mind future plans of 
villainy, and indulging the hope that on the youth’s 
returning homewards he would be more successful in find¬ 
ing a favourable opportunity to take his life. 

During the same hour it was that our low-hulled little 
schooner hove in sight on the horizon, ran swiftly down 
before the breeze, cast anchor in the bay, and sent her boat 
ashore, as we have seen, with the captain, the surly man 
called Dick, and our friend John Bumpus. 

It happened that, just as the boat ran under the shelter 
of a rocky point and touched the strand, Keona left his 
cave for the purpose of observing what young Stuart was 
about. He knew that he could not have retraced his home¬ 
ward way without passing within sight of his place of con¬ 
cealment. 

A glance of surprise crossed his dark visage as he crept 
to the edge of the underwood and saw the schooner at 
anchor in the bay. This was succeeded by a fiendish grin 
of exultation as his eye fell on the slumbering form of the 
youth. He instantly took advantage of the opportunity; 
and so deeply was he engrossed with his murderous inten¬ 
tion, that he did not observe the captain of the schooner 


THE SANDAL-WOOD TRADER 


17 


as he turned a projecting rock, and suddenly appeared upon 
the scene. The captain, however, saw the savage, and 
instantly drew back, signing, at the same time, to his two 
men to keep under cover. 

A second glance shewed him the sleeping form of Henry, 
and, almost before he had time to suspect that foul play 
was going on, he saw the savage glide from the bushes to 
the side of the sleeper, raise his spear, and poise it for one 
moment, as if to make sure of sending it straight to the 
youth’s heart. 

There was not a moment to lose. The captain carried a 
short carbine in his hand, with which he took aim at the 
savage — going down on one knee to make a surer shot, 
for the carbine of those days was not to be depended on at 
a distance much beyond a hundred yards; and as the actors 
in this scene were separated by even more than that dis¬ 
tance, there was a considerable chance of missing the 
savage and hitting the young man. 

This, however, was not a moment to calculate chances. 
The captain pulled the trigger, and the crash of the shot 
was followed by a howl from the savage, as his uplifted 
arm dropt to his side, and the spear fell across the face of 
the sleeper. Henry instantly awoke, and sprang up with 
the agility of a panther. Before he could observe what 
had occurred, Keona leapt into the bushes and disappeared. 
Henry at once bounded after him; and the captain, giving 
vent to a lusty cheer, rushed across the beach, and sprang 
into the forest, closely followed by surly Dick and John 
Bumpus, whose united cheers of excitement and shouts of 
defiance awoke the echoes of the place with clamorous 
discords. 


18 


GASCOYNE 


CHAPTER III 

A ROUGH WALK ENLIVENED BY RAMBLING TALK — BUMPUS 
IS “ AGREEABLE ” 

It is said, in the proverbial philosophy of nautical men, 
that “ a stern chase is a long one.” The present instance 
was an exception to the general rule. Keona was wounded. 
Young Stuart was fleet as the antelope, and strong as a 
young lion. In these circumstances it is not surprising 
that, after a run of less than a quarter of a mile, he suc¬ 
ceeded in laying his hands on the neck of the savage and 
hurling him to the ground, where he lay panting and help¬ 
less, looking up in the face of his conqueror with an ex¬ 
pression of hopeless despair — for savages and wicked men 
generally are wont to judge of others by themselves, and 
to expect to receive such treatment from their enemies as 
they themselves would in similar circumstances accord. 

The fear of instant death was before his eyes, and the 
teeth of Keona chattered in his head, while his face grew 
more hideous than ever, by reason of its becoming livid. 

His fears were groundless. Henry Stuart was not a 
savage. He was humane by nature; and, in addition to 
this, he had been trained under the influence of that Book 
which teaches us that the most philosophical, because the 
most effective, method of procedure in this world, is to 
“ overcome evil with good.” 

“ So, you scoundrel,” said Henry, placing his knee on 
Keona’s chest, and compressing his throat with his left 
hand, while, with his right, he drew forth a long glitter- 


THE SANDAL-WOOD TRADER 


19 


ing knife, and raised it in the air — “ So you are not satis¬ 
fied with what I gave you the last time we met, but you 
must needs take the trouble to cross my path a second time, 
and get a taste of cold steel, must you?” 

Although Keona could speak no English, he undeistood 
it sufficiently to appreciate the drift of the youth’s words, 
even though he had failed to comprehend the meaning of 
the angry frown and the glittering knife. But, however 
much he might have wished to reply to the question, Henry 
took care to render the attempt impossible, by compressing 
his windpipe until he became blue in the face, and then 
black. At the same time, he let the sharp point of his 
knife touch the skin just over the region of the heart. 
Having thus convinced his vanquished foe that death was 
at the door, he suddenly relaxed his iron grip; arose, 
sheathed his knife, and bade the savage get up. 

The miserable creature did so, with some difficulty, just 
as the captain and his men arrived on the scene. 

“ Well met, Henry,” cried the former, extending his 
hand to the youth, “ had I been a moment later, my lad, I 
fear that your life’s blood would have been on the sea 
shore.” 

“ Then it was you who fired the shot, Captain Gascoyne? 
This is the second time I have to thank you for saving my 
life,” said the young man, returning the grasp of the cap¬ 
tain’s hand. 

“ Truly, it is but a small matter to have to thank me for. 
Doubtless, if my stout man, John Bumpus, had carried the 
carbine, he would have done you as good service. And 
methinks, Henry, that you would have preferred to owe 
your life to either of my men, rather than to me, if I may 
judge by your looks.” 


20 


GASCOYNE 


“ You should not judge by looks, captain,” replied the 
youth, quickly — “ especially the looks of a man who has 
just had a hand to hand tussle with a savage. But, to tell 
the plain truth, Captain Gascoyne, I would indeed rather 
have had to thank your worthy man, John Bumpus, than 
yourself for coming to my aid, for although I owe you no 
grudge, and do not count you an enemy, I had rather see 
your back than your face — and you know the reason why.” 

“ You give me credit, boy, for more knowledge than I 
possess,” replied Gascoyne, while an angry frown gathered 
for a moment on his brow, but passed away almost as 
quickly as it came; “ I know not the cause of your un¬ 
reasonable dislike to one who has never done you an injury.” 

“ Never done me an injury!” cried Henry, starting and 
turning with a look of passion on his companion; then, 
checking himself by a strong effort, he added in a milder 
tone — “ But a truce to such talk, and I ask your forgive¬ 
ness for my sharp words just after your rendering me such 
good service in the hour of need. You and I differ in our 
notions on one or two points — that is all; there is no need 
for quarrelling. See, here is a note from my mother, who 
sent me to the bay to meet you.” 

During this colloquy, Dick and Bumpus had mounted 
guard over the wounded savage, just out of ear-shot of 
their captain. Neither of the sailors ventured to hold their 
prisoner, because they deemed it an unmanly advantage to 
take of one who was so completely (as they imagined) in 
their power. They kept a watchful eye on him, however; 
and while they affected an easy indifference of attitude, held 
themselves in readiness to pounce upon him if he should 
attempt to escape. But nothing seemed farther from the 
mind of Keona than such an attempt. He appeared to be 


THE SANDAL-WOOD TRADER 


21 


thoroughly exhausted by his recent struggle and loss of 
blood, and his body was bent as if he were about to sink 
down to the ground. There was, however, a peculiar 
glance in his dark eyes that induced John Bumpus to be 
more on his guard than appearances seemed to warrant. 

While Gascoyne was reading the letter to which we have 
referred, Keona suddenly placed his left leg behind surly 
Dick, and, with his unwounded fist, hit that morose in¬ 
dividual such a tremendous back-handed blow on the nose, 
that he instantly measured his length on the ground. John 
Bumpus made a sudden plunge at the savage on seeing this, 
but the latter ducked his head, passed like an eel under the 
very arms of the sailor, and went off into the forest like a 
deer. 

“ Hold!” shouted Captain Gascoyne, as John turned in 
a state of mingled amazement and anger to pursue. “ Hold 
on, Bumpus, let the miserable rascal go.” 

John stopped, looked over his shoulder, hesitated, and 
finally came back with a rolling air of nautical indifference, 
and his hands thrust into his breeches pockets. 

“ You know best, capting,” said he, “ but I think it a 
pity to let sich a dirty varmint go clear off, to dodge about 
in the bushes, and mayhap treat us to a pisoned arrow, or a 
spear-thrust on the sly. Howsomedever, it ain’t no consarn 
wotever to Jo Bumpus. How’s your beak, Dick, my boy?” 

“ None the better for your askin’,” replied the surly 
mariner, who was tenderly stroking the injured member of 
his face with the fingers of both hands. 

“ Come, Dick, it is none the worse of being inquired 
after,” said Henry, laughing. “ But ’tis as well to let the 
fellow go. He knows best how to cure his wound, by the 
application of a few simples, and by thus making off, has 


22 


GASCOYNE 


relieved us of the trouble and responsibility of trying our 
hands at civilised doctoring. Besides, John Bumpus (if 
that’s your name,— though I do think your father might 
have found you a better), your long legs would never have 
brought you within a mile of the savage.” 

“Young man,” retorted Jo, gravely, “ I’d have you to 
know that the family of the Bumpuses is an old and a 
honourable one. They corned over with the Conkerer to 
Ireland, where they picked up a deal o’ their good man¬ 
ners, after which they settled at last on their own estates in 
Yorkshire. Though they have corned down in the world, 
and the last of the Bumpuses — that’s me — is takin’ a 
pleasure trip round the world before the mast, I won’t stand 
by and hear my name made game of, d’ye see; and I’d have 
ye to know, farther, my buck, that the Bumpuses has a 
pecooliar gift for fightin’, and although you are a strappin’ 
young feller, you’d better not cause me for to prove that 
you’re conkerable.” 

Having delivered himself of this oration, the last of the 
Bumpuses frowned portentously on the youth who had 
dared to risk his anger, and turning with a bland smile to 
surly Dick, asked him “ if his beak was any better now .” 

“ There seems to be bad news in the letter, I think,” 
observed Henry, as Captain Gascoyne perused the epistle 
with evident signs of displeasure. 

“ Bad enough in these times of war, boy,” replied the 
other, folding the note and placing it in a pouch inside the 
breast of his flannel shirt. “ It seems that that pestiferous 
British frigate, the Talisman , lies at anchor in the bay, on 
the other side of the island.” 

“ Nothing in that to cause uneasiness to an honest 
trader,” said Henry, leading the way up the steep path by 


THE SANDAL-WOOD TRADER 23 

which he had descended from the mountain region of the 
interior. 

“ That speech only shews your ignorance of the usages 
of ships of war. Know you not that the nature of the trade 
in which I am engaged requires me to be strong-handed 
and that the opinion of a commander in the British navy as 
to how many hands are sufficient for the navigation of a 
trading schooner does not accord with mine? — a difference 
of opinion which may possibly result in his relieving me of 
a few of my best men when I can ill afford to spare them. 
And, by the way,” said Gascoyne, pausing as they gained 
the brow of an eninence that commanded a view of the 
rich woodland on one side and the sea on the other, “ I had 
better take precautions against such a mischance. Here, 
Dick ” (taking the man aside and whispering to him), “ go 
back to the schooner, my lad, and tell the mate to send ten 
of the best hands ashore with provisions and arms. Let 
them squat where they choose on land, only let them see 
to it that they keep well out of sight and hearing until I 
want them. And now, Master Henry, lead the way; John 
Bumpus and I will follow at your heel like a couple of faith¬ 
ful dogs.” 

The scene through which young Henry Stuart now led 
his seafaring companions was of that rich, varied, and 
beautiful character which is strikingly characteristic of 
those islands of the Pacific which owe their origin to vol¬ 
canic agency. Unlike the low coral islets, this island pre¬ 
sented every variety of the boldest mountain scenery, and 
yet, like them, it displayed all the gorgeous beauty of a 
rich tropical vegetation. In some places the ground had 
been cracked and riven into great fissures and uncouth 
caverns of the wildest description by volcanoes apparently 


24 


GASCOYNE 


long since extinct. In others the landscape presented the 
soft beauty of undulating grove-like scenery, in which, amid 
a profusion of bright green herbage, there rose conspicuous 
the tall stems and waving plumes of the cocoa-nut palm; 
the superb and umbrageous ko-a, with its laurel-green 
leaves and sweet blossoms; the kukui or candle-nut tree, 
the fragrant sandal-wood, and a variety of other trees and 
shrubs for which there are no English names. 

Hundreds of green paroquets with blue heads and red 
breasts, turtle-doves, wood-pigeons, and other birds, en¬ 
livened the groves with sound, if not with melody, and the 
various lakelets and pools were alive with wild ducks and 
water-hens. 

The route by which the party travelled, led them first 
across a country of varied and beautiful aspect; then it 
conducted them into wild mountain fastnesses, among 
which they clambered, at times with considerable difficulty. 
Ere long they passed into a dreary region where the ancient 
fires that upheaved the island from the deep seemed to have 
scorched the land into a condition of perpetual desolation. 
Blackened and bare lava rocks, steep volcanic ridges and 
gorges, irregular truncated coves, deep-mouthed caves and 
fissures, overhanging arches, natural bridges, great tunnels 
and ravines, surrounded them on every side, and so con¬ 
cealed the softer features of the country that it was scarcely 
possible to believe in the reality of the verdant region out 
of which they had just passed. In another hour this 
chaotic scenery was left behind; the highest ridge of the 
mountains was crossed, and the travellers began to descend 
the green slopes on the other side of the island. These 
slopes terminated in a beach of white sand, while beyond 


THE SANDAL-WOOD TRADER 


25 


lay the calm waters of the enclosed lagoon, the coral reef 
with its breakers, and the mighty sea. 

“ ’Tis a pretty spot?” said Henry, interrogatively, as the 
party halted on the edge of a precipice, whence they ob¬ 
tained an uninterrupted view of the whole of that side of 
the island. 

“ Ay, pretty enough,” replied Gascoyne in a somewhat 
sad tone of voice; “ I had hoped to have led a quiet life 
here once,— but that was not to be. How say you, Bum- 
pus ; could you make up your mind to cast anchor here for 
a year or so?” 

“ Wot’s that you say, cap ting?” inquired honest John, 
who was evidently lost in admiration of the magnificent 
scene that lay spread out before him. 

“ I ask if you have no objection to come to an anchor 
here for a time,” repeated the captain. 

“ Objection! I’ll tell ye wot it is, capting, I never seed 
sich a place afore in all my born days. Why it’s a slice out 
o’ paradise. I do believe if Adam and Eve wos here they’d 
think they’d got back again into Eden. It’s more beauti- 
fuller than the blue ocean, by a long chalk, an’ if you wants 
a feller that’s handy at a’most anything after a fashion — a 
jack of all trades and master of none (except seamanship), 
which ain’t o’ no use here — Jo Bumpus is your man!” 

“ I’m glad to hear you say that, Jo,” said Henry, laugh¬ 
ing, 11 for we are greatly in need of white men of your 
stamp in these times, when the savages are so fierce against 
each other that they are like to eat us up altogether, merely 
by way of keeping their hands in practice.” 

“ White men of my stamp!” remarked Bumpus, survey¬ 
ing complacently his deeply-bronzed hands, which were 


.26 


GASCOYNE 


only a shade darker than his visage; “ well, I would like to 
know what ye call black if I’m a white man.” 

“ Blood, and not skin, is what stamps the colour of the 
man, Jo. If it were agreeable to Captain Gascoyne to let 
you off your engagement to him, I think I could make it 
worth your while to engage with me, and would find you 
plenty of work of all kinds, including a little of that same 
fighting for which the Bumpuses are said to be so famous.” 

“ Gentlemen,” said Jo, gravely, “I'm agreeable to 
become a good and chattel for this occasion only, as the 
playbills say, and hold myself up to the highest bidder.” 

“Nay, you are sold to me, Bumpus,” said Gascoyne 1 
“ and must do as I bid you.” 

“ Wery good, then bid away as fast as you like.” 

“ Come, captain, don’t be hard,” said Henry, “ what 
will you take for him?” 

“ I cannot afford to sell him at any price,” replied the 
other, “for I have brought him here expressly as a gift to 
a certain Mary Stuart, queen of women, if not of Scotland — 
a widow who dwells in Sandy Cove — ” 

“ What, my mother?” interrupted Henry, while a shade 
of displeasure crossed his countenance at what he deemed 
the insolent familiarity with which Gascoyne mentioned 
her name. 

“ The same. On my last visit I promised to get her a 
man-servant who could do her some service in keeping off 
the savages when they take a fancy to trouble the settle¬ 
ment; and if Bumpus is willing to try his luck on shore, I 
promise him he’ll find her a good mistress, and her house 
pleasant quarters.” 

“So,” exclaimed the stout seaman, stopping short in his 


THE SANDAL-WOOD TRADER 


27 


rolling walk, and gazing earnestly into his captain’s face, 
“ I’m to be sold to a woman?” 

“ With your own consent entirely, Master Bumpus,” 
said Gascoyne, with a smile. 

“ Come, Jo,” cried Henry, gaily, “ I see you like the 
prospect, and feel assured that you and I shall be good 
friends. Give us your flipper, my boy!” 

John Bumpus allowed the youth to seize and shake a 
“ flipper,” which would have done credit to a walrus, both 
in regard to shape and size. After a short pause he said, 
“ Whether you and me shall be good friends, young man, 
depends entirely on the respect which you shew to the 
family of the Bumpuses — said family havin’ corned over to 

Ireland with the Conkerer in the year-, ah! I misre- 

member the year, but that don’t matter, bein’ a subject of 
no consarn wotiver, ’xcept to schoolboys who’ll get their 
licks if they can’t tell, and sarve ’em right too. But if 
you’re willin’ I’m agreeable, and there’s an end o’ the 
whole affair.” 

So saying, John Bumpus suffered a bland smile to light 
up his ruddy countenance, and resumed his march in the 
“ wake,” as he expressed it, of his companions. 

Half an hour later they arrived at Sandy Cove, a smal 
native settlement and mission station, and were soon seated 
at the hospitable board of Widow Stuart. 




28 


GASCOYNE 


CHAPTER IV 

THE MISSIONARY-SUSPICIONS, SURPRISES, AND SURMISES 

Sandy Cove was a small settlement inhabited partly by 
native converts to Christianity, and partly by a few Euro¬ 
pean traders, who, having found that the place was in the 
usual track of South Sea whalers, and frequently visited by 
that class of vessels as well as by other ships, had estab¬ 
lished several stores or trading houses, and had taken up 
their permanent abode there. 

The island was one of those the natives of which were 
early induced to agree to the introduction of the gospel. 
At the time of which we write, it was in that transition 
state which renders the work of the missionary one of 
anxiety, toil, and extreme danger as well as one of love. 

But the Rev. Frederick Mason was a man eminently 
fitted to fill the post which he had selected as his sphere of 
labour. Bold and manly in the extreme, he was more like 
a soldier in outward aspect than a missionary. Yet the 
gentleness of the lamb dwelt in his breast and beamed in 
his eye; and to a naturally indomitable and enthusiastic 
disposition was added burning zeal in the cause of his be¬ 
loved Master. 

Six years previous to the opening of our tale, he had 
come to Sandy Cove with his wife and child, the latter a 
girl of six years of age at that time. In one year death 
bereaved the missionary of his wife, and, about the same 
time, war broke out in the island between the chiefs who 


THE SANDAL-WOOD TRADER 


29 


clung to the idolatrous rites and bloody practices peculiar 
to the inhabitants of the South Sea islands, and those chiefs 
who were inclined to favour Christianity. This war con¬ 
tinued to rage more or less violently for several years, fre¬ 
quently slumbering, sometimes breaking out with sudden 
violence, like the fitful eruptions of the still unextinct vol¬ 
canoes in those distant regions. 

During all this period of bloodshed and alarms, the 
missionary stuck to his post. The obstinacy of hatred was 
being gradually overcome by the superior pertinacity of 
zeal in a good cause, and the invariable practice — so in¬ 
comprehensible to the savage mind — of returning good for 
evil; the result was, that the Sabbath bell still sent its tink¬ 
ling sound over the verdant slopes above Sandy Cove, and 
the hymn of praise still arose, morning and evening, from 
the little church, which, composed partly of wood, partly of 
coral rock, had been erected under the eye, and, to a large 
extent, by the hands of the missionary. 

But false friends within the camp were more dangerous 
and troublesome to Mr. Mason than avowed enemies with¬ 
out. Some of the European traders, especially, who 
settled on the island a few years after the missionary had 
made it habitable, were the worst foes he had to contend 
with. 

In the same vessel that brought the missionary to the 
island, there came a widow, Mrs. Stuart, with her son 
Henry, then a stout lad of thirteen. The widow was not, 
however, a member of the missionary’s household. She 
came there to settle with her son, who soon built her a 
rudely constructed but sufficiently habitable hut, which, in 
after years, was enclosed, and greatly improved; so that 
it at last assumed the dimensions of a rambling picturesque 


30 


GASCOYNE 


cottage, whitewashed, brilliant, and neat in its setting of 
bright green. 

The widow, although not an official assistant to the mis¬ 
sionary, was nevertheless a most efficient one. She taught 
in his schools, being familiar with the native tongue; and, 
when the settlement grew in numbers, both of white and 
black, she became known as the good angel of the place — 
the one who was ever ready with sympathy for the sorrow¬ 
ful, and comfort for the dying. She was fair and fragile, 
and had been exceedingly beautiful; but care had stamped 
his mark deeply in her brow. Neither care nor time, how¬ 
ever, could mar the noble outline of her fine features, or 
equal the love that beamed in her gentle eyes. 

The widow was a great mystery to the gossips of Sandy 
Cove; for there are gossips even in the most distant isles of 
the sea! Some men (we refer, of course, to white men) 
thought that she must have been the wife of an admiral at 
least, and had fallen into distressed circumstances, and gone 
to these islands to hide her poverty. Others said she was 
a female Jesuit in disguise, sent there to counteract the 
preaching of the gospel by the missionary. A few even 
ventured to hint their opinion that she was an outlaw, “ or 
something of that sort,” and shrewdly suspected that Mr. 
Mason knew more about her than he was pleased to tell. 
But no one, either by word or look, had ever ventured to 
express an opinion of any kind to herself, or in the hearing 
of her son; the latter, indeed, displayed such uncommon 
breadth of shoulders, and such unusual development of 
muscle, that it was seldom necessary for him — even in 
those savage regions and wild times — to display anything 
else, in order to make men respectful. 

While our three friends were doing justice to the bacon 


THE SANDAL-WOOD TRADER 


31 


and breadfruit set before them by Widow Stuart, the widow 
herself was endeavouring to repress some strong feeling, 
which caused her breast to heave more than once, and 
induced her to turn to some trifling piece of household duty 
to conceal her emotion. These symptoms were not lost 
upon her son, whose suspicions and anger had been aroused 
by the familiarity of Gascoyne. Making some excuse for 
leaving the room, towards the conclusion of the meal, he 
followed his mother to an outhouse, whither she had gone 
to fetch some fresh milk. 

“ Mother,” said Henry, respectfully, yet with an un¬ 
wonted touch of sternness in his voice; “there is some 
mystery connected with this man Gascoyne that I feel 
convinced you can clear up-” 

“ Dear Henry,” interrupted the widow, and her cheek 
grew pale as she spoke, “ do not, I beseech you, press me 
on this subject. I cannot clear it up.” 

“ Say you will not, mother,” answered Henry, in a tone 
of disappointment. 

“ I would if I dared,” continued the widow. “ The time 
may come when I-” 

“ But why not now,” urged the youth, hastily. “ I am 
old enough, surely, to be trusted. During the four visits 
this man has paid to us, I have observed a degree of famil¬ 
iarity on his part which no man has a right to exhibit to¬ 
wards you; and which, did I not see that you permit it, 
no man would dare to show. Why do you allow him to 
call you ‘ Mary ’ ? No one else in the settlement does so.” 

“ He is a very old friend,” replied the widow, sadly. “ I 
have known him from childhood. We were playmates 
long ago.” 

“ Humph! that’s some sort of reason, no doubt; but you 



32 


GASCOYNE 


don’t appear to like him, and his presence always seems to 
give you pain. Why do you suffer yourself to be annoyed 
by him? Only say the word, mother, and I’ll kick him out 
of the house, neck and crop-” 

“ Hush, boy; you are too violent.” 

“Too violent! Why, it would make a coward violent, 
to see his mother tormented as you are by this fellow, and 
not be allowed to put a stop to it. I suspect-” 

“ Henry,” said the widow, again interrupting her exas¬ 
perated son, 11 do you think your mother would do what 
is wrong?” 

“ Mother,” exclaimed the youth, seizing her hand, and 
kissing her brow almost violently, “ I would as soon think 
that the angels above would do wrong; but I firmly believe 

that you are suffering wrong to be done to you; and- 

just listen to the fellow, I do believe he’s howling for more 
bacon at this moment!” 

There could be no doubt whatever about the fact; for 
just then the deep tones of Gascoyne’s voice rang through 
the cottage, as he reiterated the name of the widow, who 
hastened away, followed by her son. Henry scarcely took 
the trouble to conceal the frown that darkened his brow as 
he re-entered the apartment where his companions were 
seated. 

“ Why, Mary, your bacon surpasses anything I have 
tasted for the last six months; let’s have another rasher, 
like a good woman. That mountain air sharpens the appe¬ 
tite amazingly; especially of men who are more accustomed 
to mount the rigging of a ship than the hills on shore. What 
say you, John Bumpus?” 

John Bumpus could not at that moment say anything, in 
consequence of his mouth being so full of the bacon referred 





THE SANDAL-WOOD TRADER 


33 


to, that there was no room for a single word to pass his lips. 
In the height of his good-humour, however, he did his best 
by signs to express his entire approval of the widow’s prov¬ 
ender and even attempted to speak. In so doing, he 
choked himself, and continued in convulsions for the next 
five minutes, to the immense delight of the captain, who 
vowed he had never before seen such a blue face in the 
whole course of his life. 

While this scene was enacting, and ere Jo Bumpus had 
effectually wiped away the tears from his eyes, and cleared 
the bacon out of his windpipe, the door opened, and the 
commander of H.M.S. Talisman entered. 

Edmund Montague was a young man to hold such a 
responsible position in the navy; but he was a bold, vigor¬ 
ous little Englishman — a sort of gentlemanly and well- 
educated John Bull terrier; of frank address, agreeable 
manners, and an utterly reckless temperament, which was 
qualified and curbed, however, by good sense, and hard- 
earned experience. 

44 Good-day to you, Mrs. Stuart; I trust you will forgive 
my abrupt intrusion, but urgent business must be my 
excuse. I have called to have a little further conversation 
with your son, respecting that rascally pirate who has 
given me so much trouble. If he will have the goodness to 
take a short walk with me, I shall be much indebted.” 

44 By all means,” said Henry, rising and putting on his 
cap. 

“ Perhaps,” said Gascoyne, as they were about to leave 
the room, 44 if the commander of the Talisman would con¬ 
descend to take a little information from a stranger, he 
might learn something to the purpose regarding the pirate 


34 GASCOYNE 

Durward; for he it is, I presume, of whom you are in 
search.” 

“ I shall be happy to gain information from any source,” 
replied Montague, eyeing the captain narrowly. “ Are 
you a resident in this island?” 

“ No, I am not; my home is on the sea, and has been 
since I was a lad.” 

“ Ah! you have fallen in with this pirate then on your 
native ocean, I fancy, and have disagreeable cause to re¬ 
member him, perchance,” said Montague, smiling. “ Has 
he given you much trouble?” 

“ Ay, that he has,” replied Gascoyne, with a sudden 
scowl of ferocity. “ No one in these seas has received so 
much annoyance from him as I have. Any one who could 
rid them of his presence would do good service to the cause 
of humanity. But,” he added, while a grim smile over¬ 
spread his handsome face, “it is said that few vessels can 
cope with his schooner in speed, and I can answer for it 
that he is a bold man, fond of fighting, with plenty of reck¬ 
less cut-throats to back him, and more likely to give chase 
to a sloop-of-war than to shew her his heels. I trust you 
are well manned and armed, Captain Montague, for this 
Durward is a desperate fellow, I assure you.” 

The young commander’s countenance flushed as he re¬ 
plied, “ Your anxiety on my account, sir, is quite, uncalled 
for. Had I nothing but my own longboat wherewith to 
attack this pirate, it would be my duty to do so. I had 
scarcely expected to find unmanly fears exhibited in one so 
stalwart in appearance as you are. Perhaps it may relieve 
you to know that I am both well manned and armed. It is 
not usual for a British man-of-war to cruise in distant seas 
in a less suitable condition to protect her flag. And yet, 


THE SANDAL-WOOD TRADER 


35 


me thinks, one who has spent so many years of his life on 
salt water might know the difference between a frigate and 
a sloop-of-war.” 

“ Be not so hasty, young man,” answered Gascoyne, 
gravely; “ you are not on your own quarter-deck just now. 
There ought to be civility between strangers. I may, in¬ 
deed, be very ignorant of the cut and rig of British war 
vessels, seeing that I am but a plain trader in seas where 
ships of war are not often wont to unfurl their flags, but 
there can be no harm, and there was meant no offence, in 
warning you to be on your guard.” 

A tinge of sarcasm still lingered in Captain Montague’s 
tone as he replied, “ Well, I thank you for the caution. 
But to come to the point, what know you of this pirate — 
this Durward, as he calls himself; though I have no doubt 
he has sailed under so many aliases that he may have for¬ 
gotten his real name.” 

“ I know him to be a villain,” replied Gascoyne. 

“ That much I know as well as you,” said Montague. 

“ And yet it is said he takes fits of remorse at times, and 
would fain change his way of life if he could,” continued 
Gascoyne. 

“That I might guess,” returned the other; “most 
wicked men have their seasons of remorse. Can you tell 
me nothing of him more definite than this, friend?” 

“ I can tell you that he is the very bane of my existence,” 
said Gascoyne, the angry expression again flitting for a 
moment across his countenance. “ He not only pursues 
and haunts me like my own shadow, but he gets me into 
scrapes by passing his schooner off for mine when he is 
caught.” 


36 


GASCOYNE 


The young officer glanced in surprise at the speaker as 
he uttered these words. 

“ Indeed,” said he, “ that is a strange confusion of ideas. 
So then, the two schooners bear so strong a resemblance as 
to be easily mistaken for each other?” 

“ They are twins. They were built at the same time, 
from the same moulds, and were intended for the sandal¬ 
wood trade between these islands and Calcutta, Manilla, 
and Australia. One of them, the Avenger, was seized on 
her first voyage by this Durward, then mate of the schooner, 
and has ever since scoured the South Seas as a pirate; the 
other, named the Foam, which I have the misfortune to 
comrrland, still continues the traffic for which she was 
originally built.” 

“ Ha!” exclaimed Montague, turning suddenly round 
with an inquiring gaze at the stalwart figure of the sandal¬ 
wood trader; “it is most fortunate that I have met with 
you, Mr. Gascoyne. I doubt not that you can conduct me 
to this vessel of yours, so that I may know the pirate when 
I fall in with him. If the two vessels resemble each other 
so closely, a sight of the Foam will be of great service to 
me in my search after the Avenger." 

“ You are most welcome to a sight of my craft,” replied 
Gascoyne. “ The only difference between the two is, that 
the figure-head of the pirate is a griffin’s head, painted 
scarlet, that of my schooner is a female, painted white. 
There is also a red streak round the sides of the pirate; the 
hull of the Foam is entirely black.” 

“ Will you come on board my vessel, and accompany me 
in one of my boats to yours?” inquired Montague. 

“ That is impossible,” replied Gascoyne; “ I came here 
on urgent business which will not brook delay; but my 


THE SANDAL-WOOD TRADER 


37 


schooner lies on the other side of the island; if you pull 
round, my mate will receive you. You will find him a 
most intelligent and hospitable man. He will conduct you 
over the vessel, and give you all the information you may 
desire. Meanwhile,” added the captain of the Foam , ris¬ 
ing and putting on his cap, “ I must bid you adieu.” 

“ Nay, but you have not yet told me when or where you 
last saw or heard of this remarkable pirate, who is so clever 
at representing other people, perhaps I should rather say 
misrepresenting them,” said Montague, with a meaning 
smile. 

“ I saw him no longer ago than this morning,” replied 
Gascoyne gravely. “ He is now in these waters, with what 
intent I know not, unless from his unnatural delight in 
persecuting me, or, perhaps, because fate has led him into 
the very jaws of the lion.” 

“ Humph! he will find that I bite before I roar, if he 
does get between my teeth,” said the young officer. 

“ Surely you are mistaken, Gascoyne,” interposed Henry 
Stuart, who, along with John Bumpus, had hitherto been 
silent listeners to the foregoing conversation. “ Several of 
our people have been out fishing among the islands, and 
have neither seen nor heard of this redoubted pirate.” 

“ That is possible enough, boy, but I have seen him, 
nevertheless, and I shall be much surprised if you do not 
see and hear more of him than you desire before many days 
are out. That villain does not sail the seas for pastime, 
you may depend on it.” 

As Gascoyne said this,^the outer door of the house was 
burst violently open, and the loud voice of a boy was 
heard in the porch or short passage that intervened between 


38 


GASCOYNE 


it and the principal apartment of the cottage, shouting 
wildly — 

“ Ho! hallo! hurrah! I say, Widow Stuart! Henry! 
here’s a business — sich fun! only think, the pirate’s 
turned up at last, and murdered half the niggers in-” 

There was an abrupt stoppage both of the voice and the 
muscular action of this juvenile tornado as he threw open 
the door with a crash, and, instead of the widow or her 
son, met the gaze of so many strangers. The boy stood for 
a few seconds on the threshold, with his curly brown hair 
dishevelled, and his dark eyes staring in surprise, first at 
one, then at another of the party, until at length they 
alighted on John Bumpus. The mouth, which up to that 
moment had formed a round O of astonishment, relaxed 
into a broad grin, and, with sudden energy, exclaimed — 

“ What a grampus!” 

Having uttered this complimentary remark, the urchin 
was about to retreat, when Henry made a sudden dart at 
him, and caught him by the collar. 

“ Where got you the news, Will Corrie?” said Henry, 
giving the boy a squeeze with his strong hand. 

“Oh, Henry, I’ll tell you all about it. But, don’t give 
me over to that grampus,” cried the lad, pretending to 
whimper. “ I got the news from a feller, that said he’d 
got it from a feller, that saw a feller, who said he’d heard a 
feller tell another feller, that he saw a black feller in the 
bush, somewhere or other ’tween this and the other end o’ 
the island, with a shot hole in his right arm, running like 
a cogolampus, with ten pirates in full chase. Ah! oh! 
have mercy, Henry; really my constitution will break 
down if you-” 




THE SANDAL-WOOD TRADER 


39 


“ Silence, you chatter-box, and give me a reasonable 
account of what you have heard or seen, if you can.” 

The urchin, who might have been about thirteen years 
of age, became grave all of a sudden, and, looking up ear¬ 
nestly in his questioner’s face, said, “ Really, Henry, you 
are becoming unreasonable in your old age, to ask me to 
give you a reasonable account of a thing, and at the same 
time to be silent!” 

“I’ll tell you what, Corrie, I’ll throttle you if you don’t 
speak,” said Henry. 

“Ah! you couldn't ,” pleaded Corrie in a tone of deep 
pathos. 

“ P’raps,” observed John Bumpus, “ p’raps if you hand 
over the young gen’l’m’n to the 4 grampus,’ he'll make him 
speak.” 

On hearing this, the boy set up a howl of affected de¬ 
spair, and suffered Henry to lead him unresistingly to within 
a few feet of Bumpus, but, just as he was within an inch of 
the huge fist of that nautical monster, he suddenly wrenched 
his collar out of his captor’s grasp, darted to the door, 
turned round on the threshold, hit the side of his own nose 
a sounding slap with the forefinger of his right hand, uttered 
an inexpressively savage yell, vanished from the scene, and, 

“ Like the baseless fabric of a vision, 

Left not a wrack behind. 

The boy was instantly followed by Henry, but so light 
was his foot, that the fastest runner in the settlement had 
to penetrate the woods immediately behind his mother’s 
house for a quarter of a mile before he succeeded in again 
laying hold of the lad’s collar. 

“ What do you mean, Corrie?” said his captor, shaking 


40 GASCOYNE 

him vigorously. “ I have half a mind to give you a wal¬ 
lopping.” 

“ Never do anything by halves, Henry,” said the boy 
mildly. “ I never do. It’s a bad habit; always go the 
whole length or none. Now that we are alone, I’ll give 
you an account of what I know, if you’ll remove your hand 
from my collar.” 

“ But why would you not give me the information I 
want in the house? The people you saw there are as much 
interested in it as I am.” 

“ Oh! are they?” returned Corrie with a glance of pecu¬ 
liar meaning; “ perhaps they are more interested than you 
are.” 

“How so?” 

“ Why, how do I know, and how do you know, that 
these fellows are not pirates in disguise?” 

“ Because,” said Henry, “ one of them is an old friend — 
that is, an acquaintance — at least a sort of intimate, who 
has been many and many a time at our house before, and 
my mother knows him well. I can’t say I like him — that 
is to say, I don’t exactly like some of his ways — though I 
don’t dislike the man himself.” 

“ A most unsatisfactory style of reply, Henry, for a man 
— ah, beg pardon, a boy — of your straightforward charac¬ 
ter. Which o’ the three are you speaking of — the gram¬ 
pus?” 

“ No, the other big handsome-looking fellow.” 

“ And you’re sure you’ve known him long?” continued 
the boy, while an expression of perplexity flitted over his 
face. 

“Quite sure; why?” 

“ Because I have seen you often enough, and your house 


THE SANDAL-WOOD TRADER 


41 


and your mother, not to mention your cat and your pigs, 
and hens; but I’ve never seen him before today.” 

“ That’s because he usually comes at night, and seldom 
stays more than an hour or two.” 

11 A most uncomfortable style of acquaintance,” said 
Corrie, trying to look wise, which was an utterly futile 
effort, seeing that his countenance was fat and round, and 
rosy, and very much the reverse of philosophical, “ But 
how do you know that the grampus is not the pirate?” 

“ Because he is one of Gascoyne’s men.” 

“ Oh! his name is Gascoyne, is it? — a most piratical 
name it is. However, since he is your friend, Henry, it’s 
all right; what’s tother’s name?” 

“ Bumpus — John Bumpus.” 

On hearing this, the boy clapped both hands to his sides, 
expanded his eyes and mouth, shewed his teeth, and finally 
gave vent to roars of uncontrollable laughter, swaying his 
body about the while as if in agony. 

“ Oh, dear!” he cried, after a time, “ John Bumpus, ha! 
ha! ha! what a name! — John Bumpus, ha! ha! the gram¬ 
pus— why, it’s magnificent, ha! ha!” and again the boy 
gave free vent to his merriment, while his companion 
looked on with a quiet grin of amusement. 

Presently, Corrie became grave, and said, 11 But what of 
the third, the little chap, all over gold lace? P’r’aps he’s 
the pirate. He looked bold enough a’most for anything.” 

“ Why, you goose, that’s the commander of his Britannic 
Majesty’s frigate Talisman .” 

“ Indeed? I hope his Britannic Majesty has many more 
like him.” 

“ Plenty more like him. But come, boy; what have you 


42 GASCOYNE 

heard of this pirate, and what do you mean about a wounded 
nigger?” 

“ I just mean this,” answered the lad, suddenly becom¬ 
ing serious, “ that when I was out on the mountain this 
morning, I thought I would cross the ridge, and when I 
did so, the first thing I saw was a schooner lying in the bay 
at the foot of the hill, where you and I have so often gone 
chasing pigs together; well, being curious to know what 
sort of a craft she was, I went down the hill, intendin’ to 
go aboard; but before I’d got half way through the cocoa- 
nut grove, I heard a horrible yell of a savage; so, thinks I, 
here comes them blackguard pagans again, to attack the 
settlement; and before I could hide out of the way, a naked 
savage almost ran into my arms. He was sea-green in 
the face with fright, and blood was running over his right 
arm. 

“ The moment he saw me, instead of splitting me up 
with his knife and eating me alive, as these fellers are so 
fond of doin’, he gave a start, and another great cry, and 
doubled on his track like a hare. His cry was answered 
by a shout from half a dozen sailors, who burst out of the 
thicket at that moment, and I saw they were in pursuit of 
him. Down I went at once behind a thick bush, and the 
whole lot o’ the blind bats passed right on in full cry, within 
half an inch of my nose. And I never saw sich a set o’ 
piratical-looking villains since I was born. I felt quite 
sure that yon schooner is the pirate that has been doing so 
much mischief hereabouts, so I came back as fast as my 
legs could carry me, to tell you what I had seen. There, 
you have got all that I know of the matter now.” 

“You are wrong, boy — the schooner you saw is not the 


THE SANDAL-WOOD TRADER 43 

pirate, it is the Foam . Strange, very strange!” muttered 
Henry. 

“ What’s strange?” inquired the lad. 

“ Not the appearance of the wounded nigger,” answered 
the other; “ I can explain all about him, but the sailors — 
that puzzles me.” 

Henry then related the morning’s adventure to his young 
companion. 

“ But,” continued he, after detailing all that the reader 
already knows, “ I cannot comprehend how the pirates 
you speak of could have landed without their vessel being 
in sight; and that nothing is to be seen from the mountain 
tops except the Talisman on the one side of the island and 
the Foam on the other, I can vouch for. Boats might lie 
concealed among the rocks on the shore no doubt. But 
no boats would venture to put ashore with hostile inten¬ 
tions, unless the ship to which they belonged were within 
sight. As for the crew of the Foam , they are ordinary sea¬ 
men, and not likely to amuse themselves chasing wounded 
savages, even if they were allowed to go ashore, which I 
think is not likely, for Gascoyne knows well enough, that 
that side of the island is inhabited by the pagans, who 
would as soon kill and eat a man as they would a pig.” 

“ Sooner,— the monsters,” exclaimed the boy, indig¬ 
nantly, for he had, on more than one occasion, been an 
eye-witness of the horrible practice of cannibalism which 
prevails even at the present day, among some of the South 
Sea islanders. 

“ There is mystery here,” said Henry, starting up, “ and 
the sooner we alarm the people of the settlement, the better. 
Come, Corrie, we shall return to the house and let the 
British officer hear what you have told me.” 


44 


GASCOYNE 


When the lad had finished relating his adventure to the 
party in Widow Stuart’s cottage, Gascoyne said quietly, 
“ I would advise you, Captain Montague, to return to 
your ship and make your preparations for capturing this 
pirate, for that he is even now almost within range of your 
guns, I have not the slightest doubt. As to the men ap¬ 
pearing piratical-looking fellows to this boy, I don’t wonder 
at that; most men are wild enough when their blood is up. 
Some of my own men are as savage to look at as one would 
desire. But I gave strict orders this morning, that only 
a few were to go ashore, and these were to keep well out 
of sight of the settlement of the savages. Doubtless they 
are all aboard by this time. If you decide upon anything 
like a hunt among the mountains, I can lend you a few 
hands.” 

“ Thank you, I may perhaps require some of your hands,” 
said Montague, with a dash of sarcasm in his tone; “mean¬ 
while, since you will not favour me with your company on 
board, I shall bid you good afternoon.” 

He bowed stiffly, and, leaving the cottage, hastened on 
board his ship, where the shrill notes of the boatswain’s 
whistle, and the deep hoarse tones of that officer’s gruff 
voice, quickly announced to the people on shore that orders 
had been promptly given, and were in course of being as 
promptly obeyed. 

During the hour that followed these events, the captain 
of the Foam was closeted with Widow Stuart and her son, 
and the youthful Corrie was engaged in laying the founda¬ 
tions of a never-to-die friendship with John Bumpus, or, 
as that eccentric youngster preferred to style him, Jo 
Grampus. 


THE SANDAL-WOOD TRADER 


45 


CHAPTER V 

THE PASTOR’S HOUSEHOLD—PREPARATIONS FOR WAR 

When the conference in the widow’s cottage closed, Henry 
Stuart and Gascoyne hastened into the woods together, 
and followed a narrow footpath which led towards the 
interior of the island. Arriving at a spot where this path 
branched into two, Henry took the one that ran round the 
outskirts of the settlement towards the residence of Mr. 
Mason, while his companion pursued the other which 
struck into the recesses of the mountains. 

“ Come in,” cried the missionary, as Henry knocked at 
the door of his study. “Ah, Henry, I’m glad to see you. 
You were in my thoughts this moment. I have come to 
a difficulty in my drawings of the spire of our new church, 
and I want your fertile imagination to devise some plan 
whereby we may overcome it. But of that I shall speak 
presently. I see from your looks that more important 
matters have brought you hither. Nothing wrong at the 
cottage, I trust?” 

“ No, nothing — that is to say, not exactly wrong, but 
things, I fear, are not altogether right in the settlement. 
I have had an unfortunate rencontre this morning with one 
of the savages, which is likely to lead to mischief, for blood 
was drawn, and I know the fellow to be revengeful. In 
addition to this, it is suspected that Durward, the pirate, 
is hovering among the islands, and meditates a descent on 
us. How much truth there may be in the report I cannot 
pretend to guess; but Gascoyne, the captain of the Foam, 


46 


GASCOYNE 


has been over at our cottage, and says he has seen the pirate, 
and that there is no saying what he may venture to attempt, 
for he is a bold fellow, and, as you know, cannot have a 
good-will to missionary settlements.” 

“I’m not so sure of that,” said the pastor, in answer to 
the last remark. “It is well known that wherever a 
Christian settlement is founded in these islands, that place 
becomes a safe port for vessels of all sorts — pirates as well 
as others, if they sail under false colours and pretend to be x 
honest traders; — while in all the other islands, it is equally 
well known, the only safety one can count on, in landing, 
is superior force. But I am grieved to hear of your affray 
with the native. I hope that life will not be sacrificed.” 

“No fear of that; the rascal got only a flesh wound.” 

Here the young man related his adventure of the morn¬ 
ing, and finished by asking what the pastor advised should 
be done in the way of precaution. 

“ It seems to me,” said Mr. Mason, gravely, “ that 
our chief difficulty will be to save ourselves from our 
friends-” 

“ Would friends harm us, father?” asked a sweet soft 
voice at the pastor’s elbow. Next moment Alice Mason 
was seated on her father’s knee, gazing up in his face with 
an expression of undisguised amazement. 

Alice was a fair, delicate, gentle child. Twelve sum¬ 
mers and winters had passed over her little head without a 
cloud to obscure the sunshine of her life save one — but 
that one was a terribly dark one, and its shadow lingered 
over her for many years. When Alice lost her mother, she 
lost the joy and delight of her existence. Doubtless, her 
isolated position and the want of suitable companions, had 



THE SANDAL-WOOD TRADER 47 

something to do with the prolonged sadness of her little 
heart. 

It is almost unnecessary to say that her love for her 
father was boundless. This was natural, but it did not 
seem by any means so natural that the delicate child should 
give the next place in her heart to a wild little boy, a black 
girl, and a ragged little dog! Yet so it was, and it would 
have been difficult for the closest observer to tell which 
of these three Alice liked best. 

No one could so frequently draw forth the merry laugh 
that in former days had rung so sweetly over the hill-sides 
of the verdant isle, as our young friend Will Corrie. Noth¬ 
ing could delight the heart of the child so much as to wit¬ 
ness the mad gambols, not to mention the mischievous 
deeds, of that ragged little piece of an old doormat, which, 
in virtue of its being possessed of animal life, was named 
Toozle. And when Alice wished to talk quietly,— to 
pour out her heart, and sometimes her tears,— the bosom 
she sought on which to lay her head, next to her father’s, 
was that of her youthful nurserymaid, a good, kind, and 
gentle, but an awfully stupid native girl named Kekupoopi. 

This name was, of course, reduced in its fair proportions 
by little Alice, who, however, retained the latter part 
thereof in preference to the former, and styled her maid 
Poopy. . Young Master Corrie, on the other hand, called 
her Kickup or Puppy, indifferently, according to the 
humour he chanced to be in when he met her, or to the 
word that rose most readily to his lips. 

Mr. Mason replied to the question put by Alice, at the 
beginning of this somewhat lengthy digression. “No, 
my lamb, friends would not willingly do us harm; but 
there are those who call themselves friends who do not 


48 


GASCOYNE 


deserve the name, who pretend to be such, but who are 
in reality secret enemies. But go, dearest, to your room; 
I am busy just now talking with Henry — he, at least, is a 
trusty friend. When I have done you shall come back 
to me.” 

Alice kissed her father, and, getting off his knee, went 
at once in search of her friend Poopy. 

That dark-skinned and curly black-headed domestic was 
in the kitchen, seated on the bottom of an overturned iron 
pot, inside the dingy niche in which the domestic fire was 
wont to burn when anything of a culinary nature was go¬ 
ing on. At the time when her mistress entered, nothing of 
the kind was in progress, and the fire had subsided to 
extinction. 

The girl, who might have been any age between twelve 
and sixteen — nearer the latter, perhaps, than the former — 
was gazing with expressionless eyes straight before her, 
and thinking, evidently, of nothing. She was clothed in 
a white tunic, from which her black legs, arms, neck, and 
head protruded — forming a startling contrast therewith. 

“ Oh! Poopy, what a bad girl you are!” cried Alice, 
laughing, as she observed where her maid was seated. 

Poopy’s visage at once beamed with a look of good 
humour, a wide gash suddenly appeared somewhere near 
her chin, displaying a double row of brilliant teeth sur¬ 
rounded by red gums; at the same time the whites of her 
eyes disappeared, because, being very plump, it was a 
physical impossibility that she should laugh and keep 
them uncovered. 

“ Hee! hee!” exclaimed Poopy. 

We are really sorry to give the reader a false impression, 
as we feel that we have done, of our friend Kekupoopi, but 


THE SANDAL-WOOD TRADER 


49 


a regard for truth compels us to shew the worst of her 
character first. She was not demonstrative; and the few 
words and signs by which she endeavoured to communi¬ 
cate the state of her feelings to the outward world were 
not easily interpreted except by those who knew her well. 
There is no doubt whatever that Poopy was — we scarcely 
like to use the expression, but we know of no other more 
appropriate — a donkey! 

Yet she was an amiable, affectionate, good girl for all 
that, with an amount of love in her heart for her young 
mistress which words cannot convey, and which it is no 
wonder, therefore, that Poopy herself could not express 
either by word or look. 

“ It’s all very well for you to sit there and say 1 Hee! 
hee!’ ” cried Alice, advancing to the fire-place; “ but you 
must have made a dreadful mark on your clean white 
frock. Get up and turn round.” 

“ Hee! hee!” exclaimed the girl. 

The “ Oh! oh! ! oh! ! ! ” that burst from Alice, on 
observing the pattern of the pot neatly printed off on 
Poopy’s garment, was so emphatic, that the girl became 
impressed with the fact that she had done something 
wrong, and twisted her head and neck in a most alarming 
manner in vain attempts to behold the damage. 

• “ What a figure!” exclaimed Alice, on recovering from 
the first shock. 

“It vill vash,” said Poopy. 

“ I hope it will,” replied Alice, shaking her head doubt¬ 
fully. While she was still shaking her head, and while 
Poopy was still making futile attempts to obtain a view 
of the spot, the door of the kitchen opened, and Master 
Corrie swaggered in with his hands thrust into the outer 


50 


GASCOYNE 


pockets of his jacket, his shirt collar thrown very much 
open, and his round straw hat placed very much on the 
back of his head; for, having seen some of the crew of the 
Talisman , he had been smitten with a strong desire to 
imitate a man-of-war’s-man in aspect and gait. 

At his heels came that scampering mass of ragged door¬ 
mat Toozle, who, feeling that a sensation of some kind or 
other was being got up for his amusement, joined heartily 
in the shout of delight that burst from the youthful Corrie 
when he beheld the extraordinary figure in the fireplace. 

“ Well, I say, Kickup,” cried the youth, picking up his 
hat, which had fallen off in the convulsion, and drying his 
tears, “ you’re a sweet lookin’ creetur, you are! Is this 
a new frock you’ve got to go to church with? Come, I 
rather like that pattern, but there’s not quite enough of 
’em. Suppose I lend a hand and print a few more all 
over you. There’s plenty of pots and pans here to do it; 
and if Alice will bring down her white frock I’ll give it 
a touch up too.” 

“ How can you talk such nonsense, Corrie!” said Alice, 
laughing. “ Down, Toozle; silence, sir. Go, my dear 
Poopy, and put on another frock, and make haste, for I’ve 
something to say to you.” 

Thus admonished, the girl ran to a small apartment 
that opened off the kitchen, and speedily reappeared in 
another tunic. Meanwhile Corrie had seated himself on 
the floor, with Toozle between his knees and Alice on a 
stool at his side. Poopy, in a fit of absence of mind, was 
about to resume her seat on the iron pot, when a simul¬ 
taneous shriek, bark, and roar, recalled her scattered 
faculties, produced a “ hee! hee!” varied with a faint 


THE SANDAL-WOOD TRADER 


51 


“ ho!” and induced her to sit down on the floor beside 
her mistress. 

“ Now, tell me, Poopy,” said Alice, “ did you ever hear 
of friends who were not really friends, but enemies?” 

The girl stared at the bright intelligent face of the child, 
and shook her head slowly. 

“ Why don’t you ask me? ” inquired Corrie. “ You 
might as well ask Toozle as that potato Kickup. Eh? 
Puppy, don’t you confess that you are no better than a 
vegetable? Come, now, be honest.” 

“ Hee! hee!” replied Poopy. 

“ Humph! I thought so. But that’s an odd question of 
yours, Alice. What do you mean by it?” 

“ I mean that my papa thinks there are friends in the 
settlement who are enemies.” 

“ Does he, though? Now, that’s mysterious,” said the 
boy, becoming suddenly grave. “ That requires to be 
looked to. Come, Alice, tell me all the particulars. Don’t 
omit anything — our lives may depend on it.” 

The deeply serious manner in which Corrie said this, so 
impressed and solemnised the child, that she related, word 
for word, the brief conversation she had had with her 
father, and all that she had heard of the previous converse 
between him and Henry. 

When she had concluded, Master Corrie threw a still 
more grave and profoundly philosophical expression into 
his chubby face, and asked in a hollow tone of voice, 
“ Your father didn’t say anything against the Grampus, 
did he?” 

“ The what?” inquired Alice. 

“The Grampus — the man, at least, whom / call the 
Grampus, and who calls hisself Jo Bumpus.” 


52 


GASCOYNE 


“ I did not hear such names mentioned, but Henry spoke 
of a wounded nigger.” 

“ Ay, they’re all a set of false rascals together,” said 
Corrie. 

“Niggers ob dis here settlement is good mans, ebery 
von,” said Poopy, promptly. 

“ Hallo! Kickup, wot’s wrong? I never heard ye say 
so much at one time since I came to this place.” 

“ Niggers is good peepils,” reiterated the girl. 

“ So they are, Puppy, and you’re the best of ’em; but I 
was speakin’ of the fellers on the other side of the island, 
d’ye see?” 

“ Hee! hee!” ejaculated the girl. 

“ Well, but what makes you so anxious?” said Alice, 
looking earnestly into the boy’s face. 

Corrie laid his hand on her head and stroked her fair 
hair as he replied, 

“This is a serious matter, Alice; I must go at once 
and see your father about it.” 

He rose with an air of importance, as if about to leave 
the kitchen. 

“Oh! but please don’t go till you have told me what it 
is; I’m so frightened,” said Alice; “do stay and tell me 
about it before you go to papa.” 

“ Well, I don’t mind if I do,” said the boy, sitting down 
again. “You must know, then, that it’s reported there 
are pirates on the island.” 

“ Ooh!” exclaimed Alice. 

“D’ye know what pirates are, Puppy?” 

“ Hee! hee!” answered the girl. 

“ I do believe she don’t know nothin’,” said the boy, 
looking at her with an air of compassion, “ wot a sad thing 


THE SANDAL-WOOD TRADER 


53 


it is to belong to a lower species of human natur! Well, 
I s’pose it can’t be helped. A pirate, Kickup, is a sea- 
robber. D’ye understand?” 

“Ho! ho!” 

“ Ay, I thought so. Well, Alice, I am told that there’s 
been a lot o’ them landed on the island and took to chasin’ 
and killin’ the niggers, and Henry was all but killed by 
one o’ the niggers this very morning, an’ was saved by a 
big feller that’s a mystery to me, and by the Grampus, who 
is the best feller I ever met — a regular trump he is; and 
there’s all sorts o’ doubts and fears, and rumours, and 
things of that sort, with a captain of the British navy, 
that you and I have read so much about, trying to find 
this pirate out, and suspectin’ everybody he meets is him. 
I only hope he won’t take it into his stupid head to mis¬ 
take me for him — not so unlikely a thing after all.” And 
the youthful Corrie shook his head with much gravity, as 
he surveyed his round little legs complacently. 

“ What are you laughing at?” he added, suddenly, on 
observing that a bright smile had overspread Alice’s face. 

“ At the idea of you being taken for a pirate,” said the 
child. 

“ Hee! hee! ho! ho!” remarked Poopy. 

“ Silence, you lump of black putty!” thundered the 
aspiring youth. 

“ Come, don’t be cross to my maid,” said Alice, quickly. 

Corrie laughed, and was about to continue his discourse 
on the events and rumours of the day, when Mr. Mason’s 
voice was heard at the other end of the house. 

“Ho! Corrie.” 

“ That’s me,” cried the boy, promptly springing up and 
rushing out of the room. 


54 


GASCOYNE 


“ Here, my boy, I thought I heard your voice. 1 want 
you to go a message for me. Run down, like a good lad, 
to Ole Thorwald and tell him to come up here as soon as 
he can. There are matters to consult about.” 

“ Ay, ay, sir,” answered Corrie, sailor fashion, as he 
touched his forelock and bounded from the room. 

“ Off on pressing business,” cried the sanguine youth, 
as he dashed through the kitchen? frightening Alice, and 
throwing Toozle into convulsions of delight — “horribly 
important business.” 

Before the sentence was finished, Corrie was far down 
the hill, leaping over every obstacle like a deer. On pass¬ 
ing through a small field he observed a native bending 
down, as if picking weeds, with his back towards him* 
Going softly up behind, he hit the semi-naked savage a 
sounding slap, and exclaimed, as he passed on, “ Hallo! 
Jackolu, important business, my boy — hurrah!” 

The native to whom this rough salutation was given, was 
a tall stalwart young fellow who had for some years been 
one of the best behaved and most active members of 
Frederick Mason’s dark-skinned congregation. He stood 
erect for some time, with a broad grin on his swarthy face, 
and a twinkle in his eye, as he gazed after the young hope¬ 
ful, muttering to himself, “Ho! yes — bery wicked boy 
dat, bery; but hims capital chap for all dat.” 

A few minutes later, Master Corrie burst in upon the 
sturdy middle-aged merchant, named Ole Thorwald, a 
Norwegian who had resided much in England, and spoke 
the English language well, and who prided himself on 
being entitled to claim descent from the old Norwegian sea- 
kings. This man was uncle and protector to Corrie. 

“Ho! uncle Ole; here’s a business. Sich a to do — 


THE SANDAL-WOOD TRADER 


55 


wounds, blood, and murder! or at least an attempt at it; 
— the whole settlement in arms, and the parson sends for 
you to take command!” 

“ What means the boy!” exclaimed Ole Thorwald, who, 
in virtue of his having once been a private in a regiment 
of militia, had been appointed to the chief command of 
the military department of the settlement. This consisted 
of about thirty white men, armed with fourteen fowling- 
pieces, twenty daggers, fifteen swords, and eight cavalry 
pistols; and about two hundred native Christians, who, 
when the assaults of their unconverted brethren were 
made, armed themselves — as they were wont to do in days 
gone by — with formidable clubs, stone hatchets, and 
spears. “ What means the boy!” exclaimed Ole, laying 
down a book which he had been reading, and thrusting his 
spectacles up on his broad bald forehead. 

“ Exactly what the boy says,” replied Master Corrie. 

“ Then add something more to it, pray.” 

Thorwald said this in a mild tone, but he suddenly 
seized the handle of an old pewter mug which the lad 
knew, from experience, would certainly reach his head 
before he could gain the door if he did not behave; so he 
became polite, and condescended to explain his errand 
more fully. 

“ So, so,” observed the descendant of the sea-kings, as 
he rose and slowly buckled on a huge old cavalry sabre, 
“ there is double mischief brewing this time. Well, we 
shall see — we shall see. Go, Corrie, my boy, and rouse 

up Terrence and Hugh and-” 

“The whole army, in short,” cried the boy, hastily — 
“ you’re so awfully slow, uncle, you should have been born 
in the last century, I think.” 



56 


GASCOYNE 


Further remark was cut short by the sudden discharge 
of the pewter mug, which, however, fell harmlessly on the 
panel of the closing door as the impertinent Corrie sped 
forth to call the settlement to arms. 


THE SANDAL-WOOD TRADER 


57 


CHAPTER VI 

SUSPICIONS ALLAYED AND RE-AWAKENED 

Gascoyne, followed by his man Jo Bumpus, sped over the 
rugged mountains and descended the slopes on the oppo¬ 
site side of the island soon after nightfall, and long before 
Captain Montague, in his large and well-manned boat, 
could pull half way round in the direction of the seques¬ 
tered bay where the Foam lay quietly at anchor. 

There was not a breath of wind to ruffle the surface of 
the glassy sea, as the captain of the sandal-wood trader 
reached the shore and uttered a low cry like the hoot of an 
owl. The cry was instantly replied to, and in a few min¬ 
utes a boat crept noiselessly towards the shore, seeming 
in the uncertain light, more like a shadow than a reality 
It was rowed by a single man. When within a few yards 
of the shore, the oars ceased to move, and the deep stillness 
of the night was scarcely broken by the low voice of surly 
Dick demanding — “ Who goes there?” 

“ All right, pull in,” replied Gascoyne, whose deep bass 
voice sounded sepulchral in the almost unearthly stillness. 
It was one of those dark oppressively quiet nights which 
make one feel a powerful sensation of loneliness; such a 
night as suggests the idea of a coming storm to those who 
are at sea. 

“ Is the mate aboard?” inquired Gascoyne. 

“ He is, sir.” 

“ Are any of the hands on shore?” 

“ More than half of ’em, sir.” 


58 


GASCOYNE 


Nothing more was said; and in a few minutes Gascoyne 
was slowly pacing the quarter-deck of his little vessel in 
earnest consultation with his first mate. There seemed to 
be some difference of opinion between the captain and his 
officer, for their words, which at first were low, at length 
became audible. 

“ I tell you, Manton, it won’t do,” said Gascoyne, 
sternly. 

“ I can only suggest what I believe to be for the good 
of the ship,” replied the other, coldly. “ Even if you 
succeed, you will be certain to lose some of our hands; for 
although the best of them are on shore, the commander of 
the Talisman will think those that remain too numerous 
for a sandal-wood trader, and you are aware that we are 
sufficiently short-handed in such dangerous seas.” 

The latter part of this speech was uttered in a slightly 
sarcastic tone. 

“ What would you have me do, then?” demanded Gas¬ 
coyne, whose usual decision of character seemed to have 
deserted him under the influence of conflicting feelings, 
which, the first mate could plainly perceive, agitated the 
breast of his commander, but which he could by no means 
account for. Certainly he had no sympathy with them, 
for Manton’s was a hard, stern nature — not given to the 
melting mood. 

“ Do?” exclaimed the mate, vehemently, “ I would 
mount the red, and get out the sweeps. An hour’s pull 
will place the schooner on the other side of the reef. A 
shot from Long Tom will sink the best boat in the service 
of his Britannic Majesty, and we could be off and away 
with the land breeze before morning.” 

“ What! sink a man-of-war’s boat!” exclaimed Gas- 


THE SANDAL-WOOD TRADER 


59 


coyne; “why, that would make them set us down as 
pirates at once, and we should have to run the gauntlet of 
half the British navy before this time next year.” 

Manton received this remark with a loud laugh, which 
harshly disturbed the silence of the night. 

“ That is true,” said he, “ yet I scarcely expected to see 
Captain Gascoyne shew the white feather.” 

“Possibly not,” retorted the other, grimly; “yet me- 
thinks that he who counsels flight shews more of the white 
feather than he who would shove his head into the very 
jaws of the lion. It won’t do, Manton; I have my own 
reasons for remaining here. The white lady must in the 
meantime smile on the British commander. Besides, it 
would be difficult, if not impossible, to do all this and get 
our fellows on board again before morning. The land- 
breeze will serve to fill the sails of the Talisman just as 
well as those of the Foam; and they’re sure to trip their 
anchor tonight, for, you’ll scarcely believe it, this mad 
little fellow Montague actually suspects me to be the 
pirate Durward!” 

Again the harsh laugh of Manton disturbed the peaceful 
calm, and this time he was joined by Gascoyne, who 
seemed at length to have overcome the objections of his 
mate, for their tones again sank into inaudible whispers. 

Shortly after this conversation the moon broke out from 
behind a bank of clouds, and shone brightly down on land 
and sea, throwing into bold relief the precipices, pinnacles, 
and gorges of the one, and covering the other with rippling 
streaks of silver. About the same time the oars of the 
man-of-war’s boat were heard, and in less than half an 
hour Captain Montague ascended the side of the Foam , 


60 


GASCOYNE 


where, to his great surprise, he was politely received by 
Gascoyne. 

“ Captain Gascoyne has reason to be proud of his pedes¬ 
trian powers,” said the young commander; “ he must have 
had urgent reason for making such good use of his legs 
since we last met.” 

“To do the honours of his own ship, when he expects 
a visit from a British officer, is surely sufficient reason to 
induce a poor skipper to take an extra walk of a fine eve¬ 
ning,” replied Gascoyne, blandly. “ Besides, I know 
that men-of-war are apt to take a fancy to the crews of 
merchantmen sometimes, and I thought my presence might 
be necessary here to-night.” 

“ How?” exclaimed Montague, quickly. “ Do you 
fancy that your single arm, stout though it be, could avail 
to prevent this evil that you dread if I think proper to act 
according to established usage in time of war?” 

“ Nay, that were extreme vanity indeed,” returned the 
other, “ but I would fain hope that the explanations which 
I can give of the danger of our peculiar trade, and the 
necessity we have for a strong crew, will induce Captain 
Montague to forego his undoubted privilege and right on 
this occasion.” 

“I’m not sure of that,” replied Montague, “ it will 
depend much on your explanations being satisfactory. 
How many men have you?” 

“ Twenty-two.” 

“ So many! that is much more than enough to work so 
small a vessel.” 

“ But not more than enough to defend my vessel from a 
swarm of bloody savages.” 

“ Perhaps not,” returned Montague, on whom the 


THE SANDAL-WOOD TRADER 


61 


urbanity and candour of the captain of the Foam were 
beginning to have a softening influence. “ You have no 
objection to let me see your papers, and examine your ship, 
I suppose.” 

“ None in the world,” replied Gascoyne, smiling, “ and 
if I had, it would make little difference, I should imagine, 
to one who is so well able to insist on having his will obeyed.” 

— (He glanced at the boat full of armed men as he spoke.) 

— “ Pray, come below with me.” 

In the examination that ensued, Captain Montague was 
exceedingly strict, although the strength of his first sus¬ 
picions had been somewhat abated by the truthful tone and 
aspect of Gascoyne, and the apparent reasonableness of all 
he said; but he failed to detect anything in the papers, or 
in the general arrangements of the Foam , that could war¬ 
rant his treating her otherwise than as an honest trader. 

“So,” said he, on returning to the deck; “ this is the 
counterpart of the noted pirate, is it! You must pardon 
my having suspected you, sir, of being this same Dur- 
ward, sailing under false colours. Come, let me see the 
points of difference between you, else if we happen to meet 
on the high seas I may chance to make an unfortunate 
hole in your timbers.” 

“ The sides of my schooner are altogether black, as you 
see,” returned Gascoyne. “ I have already explained that 
a narrow streak of red distinguishes the pirate, and this 
fair lady ” (leading Montague to the bow) “ guides the 
Foam over the waves with smiling countenance, while a 
scarlet griffin is the more appropriate figure-head of Dur- 
ward’s vessel.” 

As he spoke, the low boom of a far distant gun was 
heard. Montague started, and glanced inquiringly in the 


62 


GASCOYNE 


face of his companion, whose looks expressed a slight degree 
of surprise. 

“ What was that, think you?” said Montague, after a 
momentary pause. 

44 The commander of the Talisman ought, I think, to be 
the best judge of the sound of his own guns.” 

41 True,” returned the young officer, somewhat discon¬ 
certed; 44 but you forget that I am not familiar with the 
eruptions of those volcanic mountains of yours; and, at so 
great a distance from my ship, with such hills of rock and 
lava between us, I may well be excused feeling a little 
doubt as to the bark of my own bull-dogs. But that signal 
betokens something unusual. I must shorten my visit to 
you, I fear.” 

44 Pray do not mention it,” said Gascoyne, with a pecu¬ 
liar smile; 44 under the circumstances I am bound to excuse 
you.” 

44 But,” continued Montague, with emphasis, 44 I should 
be sorry indeed to part without some little memorial of my 
visit. Be so good as to order your men to come aft.” 

44 By all means,” said Gascoyne, giving the requisite 
order promptly, for, having sent all his best men on shore, 
he did not much mind the loss of one or two of those that 
remained. 

When they were mustered, the British commander in¬ 
spected them carefully, and then he singled out surly Dick, 
and ordered him into the boat. A slight frown rested for a 
moment on Gascoyne’s countenance, as he observed the 
look of ill-concealed triumph with which the man obeyed 
the order. The expression of surly Dick, however, was 
instantly exchanged for one of dismay as his captain strode 
up to him, and looked in his face for one moment with a 


THE SANDAL-WOOD TRADER 


63 


piercing glance, at the same time thrusting his left hand 
into the breast of his red shirt. 

“ Good-bye,” he said, suddenly, in a cheerful tone, ex¬ 
tending his right hand and grasping that of the sailor. 
“ Good-bye, lad; if you serve the king as well as you have 
served me, he’ll have reason to be proud of you.” 

Gascoyne turned on his heel, and the man slunk into the 
boat with an aspect very unlike that of a bold British sea¬ 
man. 

“ Here is another man I want,” said Montague, laying 
his hand on the shoulder of John Bumpus. 

“ I trust, sir, that you will not take that man,” said 
Gascoyne, earnestly. “ I cannot afford to lose him; I 
would rather you should take any three of the others.” 

“ Your liberality leads me to think that you could with¬ 
out much difficulty supply the place of the men I take — 
but three are too many. I shall be satisfied with this one. 
Go into the boat, my lad.” 

Poor John Bumpus, whose heart had been captivated by 
the beauties of the island, obeyed the order with a rueful 
countenance; and Gascoyne bit his lip and turned aside to 
conceal his anger. In two minutes more the boat rowed 
away from the schooner’s side. 

Not a word was spoken by any one in the boat until a 
mile had separated it from the schooner. They had just 
turned a point which shut the vessel out of view, when 
surly Dick suddenly recovered his self-possession and his 
tongue, and, starting up in an excited manner, exclaimed 
to Montague — 

“ The schooner you have just left, sir, is a pirate. I 
tell the truth, though I should swing for it.” 


64 


GASCOYNE 


The crew of the boat ceased rowing, and glanced at each 
other in surprise on hearing this. 

11 Ha! say you so,” exclaimed Montague, quickly. 

“ It’s a fact, sir; ask my comrade there, and he’ll tell you 
the same thing.” 

“ He’ll do nothin’ o’ the sort,” sharply returned honest 
Bumpus, who, having been only a short time previously 
engaged by Gascoyne, could perceive neither pleasure nor 
justice in the idea of being hanged for a pirate, and who 
attributed Dick’s speech to an ill-natured desire to get his 
late commander into trouble. 

11 Which of you am I to believe?” said Montague, hastily. 

“ W’ichever you please,” observed Bumpus, with an air 
of indifference. 

11 It’s no business o’ mine,” said Dick, sulkily; 11 if you 
choose to let the blackguard escape, that’s your own look¬ 
out.” 

“ Silence, you scoundrel,” cried Montague, who was as 
much nettled by a feeling of uncertainty how to act as by 
the impertinence of the man. 

Before he could decide as to the course he ought to pur¬ 
sue, the report of one of the guns of his own vessel boomed 
loud and distinct in the distance. It was almost imme¬ 
diately followed by another. 

“ Ha! that settles the question; give way, my lads, give 
way.” 

In another moment the boat was cleaving her way 
swiftly through the dark water in the direction of the 
Talisman . 


THE SANDAL-WOOD TRADER 


65 


CHAPTER VII 

MASTER CORRIE CAUGHT NAPPING — SNAKES IN THE GRASS 

The Sabbath morning which succeeded the events we have 
just narrated dawned on the settlement of Sandy Cove in 
unclouded splendour, and the deep repose of nature was 
still unbroken by the angry passions and the violent strife 
of man, although from the active preparations of the pre¬ 
vious night it might have been expected that those who 
dwelt on the island would not have an opportunity of 
enjoying the rest of that day. 

Everything in and about the settlement was eminently 
suggestive of peace. The cattle lay sleepily in the shade 
of the trees; the sea was still calm like glass. Men had 
ceased from their daily toil; and the only sounds that broke 
the quiet of the morning were the chattering of the parrots 
and other birds in the cocoanut groves; and the cries of 
sea-fowl, as they circled in the air, or'drop t on the surface 
of the sea in quest of fish. 

The British frigate lay at anchor in the same place which 
she had hitherto occupied, and the Foam still floated in the 
sequestered bay on the other side of the island. In neither 
vessel was there the slightest symptom of preparation; and 
to one who knew not the true state of matters, the idea of 
war being about to break forth was the last that would 
have occurred. 

But this deceitful quiet was only the calm that precedes 
the storm. On every hand men were busily engaged in 
making preparation to break that Sabbath day in the most 


66 


GASCOYNE 


frightful manner, or were calmly, but resolutely, awaiting 
attack. On board the ship-of-war, indeed, there was little 
doing, for, her business being to fight, she was always in a 
state of readiness for action. Her signal guns, fired the 
previous night, had recalled Montague to tell him of the 
threatened attack by the savages. A few brief orders were 
given, and they were prepared for whatever might occur. 
In the village, too, the arrangements to repel attack having 
been made, white men and native converts alike rested 
with their arms placed in convenient proximity to their 
hands. 

In a wild and densely-wooded part of the island, far 
removed from those portions which we have yet had occa¬ 
sion to describe, a band of fiendish-looking men were mak¬ 
ing arrangements for one of those unprovoked assaults 
which savages are so prone to make on those who settle 
near them. 

They were all of them in a state of almost complete 
nudity, but the complicated tattooing on their dark skins 
gave them the appearance of being more clothed than they 
really were. Their arms consisted chiefly of enormous 
clubs of hardwood, spears, and bows; and, in order to facili¬ 
tate their escape should they chance to be grasped in a 
hand-to-hand conflict, they had covered their bodies with 
oil, which glistened in the sunshine as they moved about 
their village. 

Conspicuous among these truly savage warriors was the 
form of Keona, with his right arm bound up in a sort of 
sling. Pain and disappointed revenge had rendered this 
man’s face more than usually diabolical as he went about 
among his fellows, inciting them to revenge the insult and 
injury done to them through his person by the whites. 


THE SANDAL-WOOD TRADER 


67 


There was some reluctance, however, on the part of a few 
of the chiefs to renew a war that had been terminated, or, 
rather, been slumbering, only for a few months. 

Keona’s influence, too, was not great among his kindred, 
and had it not been that one or two influential chiefs sided 
with him, his own efforts to relight the still smoking torch 
of war would have been unavailing. 

As it was, the natives soon worked themselves up into a 
sufficiently excited state to engage in any desperate expedi¬ 
tion. It was while all this was doing in the native camp, 
that Keona, having gone to the nearest mountain-top to 
observe what was going on in the settlement, had fallen in 
with and been chased by some of those men belonging to 
the Foam , who had been sent on shore to escape being 
pressed into the service of the king of England. 

The solitary exception to this general state of prepara¬ 
tion for war was the household of Frederick Mason. Hav¬ 
ing taken such precautionary steps the night before as he 
deemed expedient, and having consulted with Ole Thor- 
wald, the general commanding, who had posted scouts in 
all the mountain passes, and had seen the war-canoes drawn 
up in a row on the strand, the pastor retired to his study 
and spent the greater part of the night in preparing to 
preach the gospel of peace on the morrow, and in com¬ 
mitting the care of his flock and his household to Him who 
is the “ God of battles ” as well as the “ Prince of peace.” 

It is not to be supposed that Mr. Mason contemplated 
the probable renewal of hostilities without great anxiety. 
For himself, we need scarcely say, he had no fears, but his 
heart sank when he thought of his gentle Alice falling into 
the hands of savages. As the night passed away without 
any alarms, his anxiety began to subside, and when Sunday 


68 


GASCOYNE 


morning dawned, he lay down on a couch to snatch a few 
hours’ repose before the labours of the day began. 

The first object that greeted the pastor’s eyes on awak¬ 
ing in the morning was a black visage, and a pair of glitter¬ 
ing eyes gazing at him through the half-open door with an 
expression of the utmost astonishment. 

He leapt up with lightning speed and darted towards 
the intruder, but checked himself suddenly and smiled, as 
poor Poopy uttered a scream, and, falling on her knees, 
implored for mercy. 

“ My poor girl, I fear I have frightened you,” said he, 
sitting down on his couch and yawning sleepily; “but I 
was dreaming, Poopy; and when I saw your black face 
peeping at me, I took you at first for one of the wild fellows 
on the other side of the mountains. You have come to 
sweep and arrange my study, I suppose.” 

“ Why, mass’r, you no hab go to bed yet,” said Poopy, 
still feeling and expressing surprise at her master’s un¬ 
wonted irregularity. “ Is you ill?” 

“ Not at all, my good girl, only a little tired. It is not 
a time for me to take much rest when the savages are said 
to be about to attack us.” 

“ When is they coming?” inquired the girl, meekly. 

The pastor smiled as he replied,— “ That is best known 
to themselves, Poopy. Do you think it likely that mur¬ 
derers or thieves would send to let us know when they 
were coming?” 

“ Hee! hee!” laughed Poopy, with an immense display 
of teeth and gums. 

“ Is Alice awake?” inquired Mr. Mason. 

“ No, her be sound ’sleep wid her two eye shut tight up, 
dis fashion, and her mout’ wide open — so.” 


THE SANDAL-WOOD TRADER 


69 


The representations of Alice’s condition, as given by her 
maid, although hideously unlike the beautiful object they 
were meant to call up to the father’s mind, were suffi¬ 
ciently expressive and comprehensible. 

“ Go wake her, my girl, and let us have breakfast as 
soon as you can. Has Will Corrie been here this morn¬ 
ing?” 

“ Hims bin here all night,” replied the girl, with a broad 
grin — (and the breadth of Poopy’s broad grin was almost 
appalling!) 

“ What mean you? has he slept in this house all night?” 

11 Yes — eh! no,” said Poopy. 

“ Yes, no,” exclaimed Mr. Mason. “ Come, Poopy, 
don’t be stupid, explain yourself.” 

“ Hee! hee! hee! yes, ho! ho!” laughed Poopy, as if 
the idea of explaining herself was about the richest joke 
she had listened to since she was born. “ Hee! hee! me 
no can ’splain, but you come here and see.” 

So saying, she conducted her wondering master to the 
front door of the cottage, where, across the threshold, 
directly under the porch, lay the form of the redoubted 
Corrie, fast asleep, and armed to the teeth. 

In order to explain the cause of this remarkable appari¬ 
tion, we think it justifiable to state to the reader, in confi¬ 
dence, that young Master Corrie was deeply in love with 
the fair Alice. With all his reckless drollery of disposi¬ 
tion, the boy was intensely romantic and enthusiastic; and, 
feeling that the unsettled condition of the times endangered 
the welfare of his lady-love, he resolved, like a true knight, 
to arm himself and guard the threshold of her door with 
his own body. 

In the deep silence of the night he buckled on a sabre, 


70 


GASCOYNE 


the blade of which, by reason of its having been broken, 
was barely eight inches long, and the hilt whereof was 
battered and rusty. He also stuck a huge brass-mounted 
cavalry pistol in his belt, in the virtue of which he had 
great faith, having only two days before shot with it a 
green-headed parrot at a distance of two yards. The dis¬ 
tance was not great, to be sure, but it was enough for his 
purpose -— intending, as he did, to meet his foe, when the 
moment of action should come, in close conflict, and thrust 
the muzzle of his weapon down the said foe’s throat before 
condescending to draw the trigger. 

Thus prepared for the worst, he sallied out on tip-toe, 
intending to mount guard at the missionary’s door, and 
return to his own proper couch before the break of day. 

But alas for poor Corrie’s powers of endurance! no sooner 
had he extended his chubby form on the door-mat, earnestly 
wishing, but not expecting, that Alice would come out and 
find him there, than he fell fast asleep, while engaged in the 
hopeless task of counting the starry host — a duty which 
he had imposed on himself in the hope that he might 
thereby be kept awake. Once asleep he slept on, as a mat¬ 
ter of course, with his broad little chest heaving gently; 
his round little visage beaming upwards like a terrestrial 
moon; his left arm under his head in lieu of a pillow (by 
consequence of which it was fast asleep also), and his right 
hand grasping the hilt of the broken sabre. 

As for Corrie’s body affording protection to Alice — the 
entire savage population might have stepped across it, one 
by one, and might have stepped back again, bearing away 
into slavery the fair maiden, with her father and all the 
household furniture without disturbing the deep slumbers 
of the youthful knight. At least we may safely come to 


THE SANDAL-WOOD TRADER 


71 


this conclusion from the fact that Mr. Mason shook him, 
first gently and then violently, for full five minutes before 
he could get him to speak; and even then he only gave 
utterance, in very sleepy tones, and half-formed words, to 
the remark — 

“ Oh! don’ borer me. It aint b’kfust-t’m’ yet?” 

“ Ho! Corrie, Corrie,” shouted Mr. Mason, giving the 
victim a shake that threatened to dislocate his neck, “ get 
up, my boy — rouse up!” 

“Hallo! hy! murder! Come on you vill-eh! Mr. 

Mason — I beg pardon, sir,” stammered Corrie, as he at 
length became aware of his condition, and blushed deeply; 
“I — I really, Mr. Mason, I merely came to watch while 
you were all asleep, as there are savages about, you know 
— and ha! ha! ha! — oh! dear me!” (Corrie exploded at 
this point, unable to contain himself at the sight of the 
missionary’s gaze of astonishment.) “ Wot a sight for a 
Sunday mornin’ too!” 

The hilarity of the boy was catching, for at this point 
a vociferous “ hee! hee!” burst from the sable Poopy; the 
clear laugh of Alice, too, came ringing through the pas¬ 
sage, and Mr. Mason himself finally joined in the chorus. 

“ Come, sir knight,” exclaimed the latter, on recover¬ 
ing his gravity, “ this is no guise for a respectable man to 
be seen in on Sunday morning; come in and lay down your 
arms. You have done very well as a soldier for this occa¬ 
sion; let us see if you can do your duty equally well as a 
church-officer. Have you the keys? ” 

“No, they are at home.” 

“ Then run and get them, my boy, and leave your pistol 
behind you. I dare say the savages won’t attack during 
the daytime.” 



72 


GASCOYNE 


Corrie did as he was desired, and the pastor went, after 
breakfast, to spend a short time with Alice on a neigh¬ 
bouring eminence, from which could be obtained a fine 
view of the settlement, with its little church and the calm 
bay on which floated the frigate, sheltered by the encir¬ 
cling coral reef from the swell of the ocean. 

Here it was Mr. Mason’s wont to saunter with Alice 
every Sunday morning, to read a chapter of the Bible 
together, and converse about that happy land where one 
so dear to both of them now dwelt with their Saviour. 
Here, also, the child’s maid was sometimes privileged to 
join them. On this particular morning, however, they 
were not the only spectators of the beautiful view from 
that hill, for, closely hidden in the bushes — not fifty yards 
from the spot where they sat — lay a band of armed savages 
who had escaped the vigilance of the scouts, and had come 
by an unguarded pass to the settlement. 

They might easily have slain or secured the missionary 
and his household without alarming the people in the 
village, but their plan of attack forbade such a premature 
proceeding. The trio therefore finished their chapter and 
their morning prayer undisturbed, little dreaming of the 
number of glittering eyes that watched their proceedings. 


THE SANDAL-WOOD TRADER 


73 


* CHAPTER VIII 

A SURPRISE — A BATTLE AND A FIRE 

The sound of the Sabbath bell fell sweetly on the pastor’s 
ear as he descended to his dwelling to make a few final prep¬ 
arations for the duties of the day, and from every hut in 
Sandy Cove trooped forth the native Christians — young 
and old — to assemble in the house of God. 

With great labour and much pains had this church been 
built, and pastor and people alike were not a little proud 
of their handiwork. The former had drawn the plans and 
given the measurements, leaving it to Henry Stuart to see 
them properly carried out in detail, while the latter did the 
work. They cut and squared the timbers, gathered the 
coral, burnt it for lime and plastered the building. The 
women and children carried the lime from the beach in 
baskets, and the men dragged the heavy logs from the 
mountains — in some cases for several miles — the timber 
in the immediate neighbourhood not being sufficiently 
large for their purpose. 

Long before the bell had ceased to toll, the church was 
full of natives, whose dark, eager faces were turned towards 
the door, in expectation of the appearance of their pastor. 
The building was so full, that many of the people were 
content to cluster round the door, or the outside of the 
unglazed windows. On this particular Sunday, there 
were strangers there, who roused the curiosity and attracted 
the attention of the congregation. Before Mr. Mason 
arrived, there was a slight bustle at the door as Captain 


74 


GASCOYNE 


Montague, with several of his officers and men, entered, 
and were shewn to the missionary’s seat by Master Corrie, 
who, with his round visage elongated as much as possible, 
and his round eyes expressing a look of inhuman solemnity, 
in consequence of his attempt to affect a virtue which he 
did not possess, performed the duties of doorkeeper. Mon¬ 
tague had come on shore to ascertain from Mr. Mason 
what likelihood there was of an early attack by the natives. 

“ Where’s Alice?” whispered the boy to Poopy, as the 
girl entered the church, and seated herself beside a little 
midshipman, who looked at her with a mingled expression 
of disgust and contempt, and edged away. 

“ Got a little headache, hee! hee!” 

“ Don’t laugh in church, you monster,” said Corrie with 
a frown. 

“ I’se not larfin,” retorted Poopy, with an injured look. 

Just then the boy caught sight of a gigantic figure enter¬ 
ing the church, and darted away to usher the stranger into 
the pastor’s seat; but Gascoyne (for it was he) took no 
notice of him. He passed steadily up the centre of the 
church, and sat down beside the Widow Stuart, whose face 
expressed anxiety and surprise the moment she observed 
who was seated there. The countenance of Henry, who 
sat on the other side of his mother, flushed, and he turned 
with an angry glance towards the captain of the Foam; 
but the look was thrown away, for Gascoyne had placed his 
arms on the back of the seat in front of him, and rested his 
head on them; in which position he continued to remain 
without motion while the service was going on. 

Mr. Mason began with a short earnest prayer in Eng¬ 
lish ; then he read out a hymn in the native tongue, which 
was sung in good tune, and with great energy, by the 


THE SANDAL-WOOD TRADER 


75 


whole congregation. The text was then read out: — 
“Though thy sins be as scarlet, they shall be white as 
snow; though they be red like crimson, they shall be as 
wool.” 

Frederick Mason possessed the power of chaining the 
attention of an audience, and a deep breathless silence pre¬ 
vailed, as he laboured, with intense fervour, to convince 
his hearers of the love of God, and the willingness and 
ability of Jesus Christ to save even the chief of sinners. 
During one part of the service, a deep low groan startled 
the congregation; but no one could tell who had uttered it. 
As it was not repeated, it was soon forgotten by most of 
the people. 

While the pastor was thus engaged, a pistol-shot was 
heard, and immediately after, a loud fierce yell burst from 
the forest, causing the ears of those who heard it to tingle, 
and their hearts for a moment to quail. In less than ten 
minutes, the church was empty, and the males of the con¬ 
gregation were engaged in a desperate hand-to-hand con¬ 
flict with the savages; who, having availed themselves of 
the one unguarded pass, had quietly eluded the vigilance of 
the scouts, and assembled in force on the outskirts of the 
settlement. 

Fortunately for the worshippers that morning, the 
anxiety of Master Corrie for the welfare of his fair Alice 
induced him to slip out of the church just after the sermon 
began. Hastening to the pastor’s house, he found the child 
sound asleep on a sofa, and a savage standing over her 
with a spear in his hand. The boy had approached so 
stealthily, that the savage did not hear him. Remember¬ 
ing that he had left his pistol on the kitchen table, he 
darted round to the back door of the house, and secured 


76 


GASCOYNE 


it just as Alice awoke with a scream of surprise and terror, 
on beholding who was near her. 

Next moment Corrie was at her side, and before the 
savage could seize the child, he levelled the pistol at his 
head and fired. The aim was sufficiently true to cause the 
ball to graze the man’s forehead, while the smoke and fire 
partially blinded him. 

It was this shot that first alarmed the natives in church, 
and it was the yell uttered by the wounded man, as he 
fell stunned on the floor, that called forth the answering 
yell from the savage host, and precipitated the attack. 

It was sufficiently premature to give the people of the 
settlement time to seize their arms; which, as has been 
said, they had placed so as to be available at a moment’s 
notice. 

The attacking party had been so sure of taking the people 
by surprise, that they formed no plan of attack, but sim¬ 
ply arranged that, at a given signal from their chief, a 
united rush should be made upon the church, and a general 
massacre ensue. As we have seen, Corrie’s pistol drew 
forth the signal sooner than had been intended. In the 
rush that immediately ensued, a party dashed through 
the house, the boy was overturned, and a savage gave him 
a passing blow with a club that would have scattered his 
brains on the floor had it taken full effect; but it was hastily 
delivered; it glanced off his head, and spent its force on 
the shoulder of the chief, who was thus unfortunate enough 
to be wounded by friends as well as foes. 

On the first alarm, Gascoyne sprang up, and darted 
through the door. He was closely followed by Henry 
Stuart, and the captain of the Talisman , with his handful 


THE SANDAL-WOOD TRADER 77 

of officers and men, who were all armed, as a matter of 
course. 

“ Sit where you are,” cried Henry, to his trembling 
mother, as he sprang after Gascoyne; “ the church is the 
safest place you’ll find.” 

The widow fell on her knees and prayed to God, while 
the fight raged without. 

Among the first to leave the church was the pastor. 
The thought of his child having been left in the house 
unprotected, filled him with an agony of fear. He sought 
no weapon of war, but darted unarmed straight into the 
midst of the savage host that stood between him and the 
object of his affection. His rush was so impetuous, that 
he fairly overturned several of his opponents by dashing 
against them. The numbers that surrounded him, how¬ 
ever, soon arrested his progress; but he had pressed so close 
in amongst them, that they were actually too closely 
packed, for a few seconds, to be able to use their heavy 
clubs and long spears with effect. 

It was well for the poor missionary, at that moment, 
that he had learned the art of boxing when a boy! The 
knowledge so acquired had never induced him to engage in 
dishonourable and vulgar strife; but it had taught him how 
and where to deliver a straightforward blow with effect; 
and he now struck out with tremendous energy, knocking 
down an adversary at every blow,— for the thought of 
Alice lent additional strength to his powerful arm. Success 
in such warfare, however, was not to be expected. Still, 
Mr. Mason’s activity and vigour averted his own destruc¬ 
tion for a few minutes; and these minutes were precious, 
for they afforded time for Captain Montague and his 
officers to cut their way to the spot where he fought, just 


78 


GASCOYNE 


as a murderous club was about to descend on his head from 
behind. Montague’s sword unstrung the arm that upheld 
it, and the next instant the pastor was surrounded by 
friends. 

Among their number was John Bumpus, who was one of 
the crew of Montague’s boat, and who now rushed upon 
the savages with a howl peculiarly his own, felling one with 
a blow of his fist, and another with a slash of his cutlass. 

“ You must retire,” said Montague, hastily, to Frederick 
Mason, who stood panting and inactive for a few moments 
in order to recover breath. ‘‘You are unarmed, sir; be¬ 
sides, your profession forbids you taking part in such work 
as this. There are men of war enough here to keep these 
fellows in play.” 

Montague spoke somewhat sharply, for he erroneously 
fancied that the missionary’s love of fighting had led him 
into the fray. 

“ My profession does not forbid me to save my child,” 
exclaimed the pastor, wildly. 

He turned in the direction of his cottage, which was full 
in view; and, at that moment, smoke burst from the roof 
and windows. With a cry of despair, Mr. Mason once 
more launched himself on the host of savages; but these 
were now so numerous that, instead of making head against 
them, the little knot of sailors who opposed them at that 
particular place found it was as much as they could do to 
keep them at bay. 

The issue of the conflict was still doubtful, when a large 
accession to their numbers gave the savages additional 
power and courage. They made a sudden onset, and bore 
back the small band of white men. In the rush the pastor 
was overthrown and rendered for a time insensible. 


THE SANDAL-WOOD TRADER 


79 


While this was going on in one part of the field, in an¬ 
other, stout Ole Thorwald, with several of the white settlers 
and the greater part of the native force, was guarding the 
principal approach to the church against immensely superior 
numbers. And nobly did the descendant of the Norse 
sea-kings maintain the credit of his warlike ancestors that 
day. With a sword that might have matched that of 
Goliath of Gath, he swept the way before him wherever he 
went, and more than once by a furious onset turned the 
tide of war in favour of his party when it seemed about to 
overwhelm them. 

In a more distant part of the field, on the banks of a 
small stream, which was spanned by a bridge about fifty 
paces farther down, Gascoyne and Henry Stuart contended, 
almost alone, with about thirty savages. These two had 
rushed so impetuously forward at the first onset as to have 
been separated from their friends, and, with four Christian 
natives, had been surrounded. Henry was armed with a 
heavy claymore, the edge of which betokened that it had 
once seen much service in the wars of the youth’s Scottish 
ancestors. Gascoyne, not anticipating this attack, had 
returned to the settlement armed only with his knife. He 
had seized the first weapon that came to hand, which 
chanced to be an enormous iron shovel, and with this 
terrific implement the giant carried all before him. 

It was quite unintentionally that he and Henry had come 
together. But the nature and power of the two men being 
somewhat similar, they had singled out the same point of 
danger, and had made their attack with the same over¬ 
whelming vehemence. The muscles of both seemed to be 
made of iron, for, as increasing numbers pressed upon 
them, they appeared to deliver their terrible blows with in- 


80 


GASCOYNE 


creasing rapidity and vigour, and the savages, despite their 
numbers, began to quail before them. 

Just then Keona — who, although wounded, hovered 
about doing as much mischief as he could with his left hand 
(which, by the way, seemed to be almost as efficient as his 
right) — caught sight of this group of combatants on the 
banks of the stream. He, with a party, had succeeded in 
forcing the bridge, and now, uttering a shout of wild de¬ 
light at the sight of his two greatest enemies within his 
power — as he thought — he rushed towards them and 
darted his spear with unerring aim and terrible violence. 
The man’s anger defeated his purpose, for the shout at¬ 
tracted the attention of Gascoyne, who saw the spear com¬ 
ing straight towards Henry’s breast. He interposed the 
shovel instantly, and the spear fell harmless to the ground. 
At the same time, with a back-handed sweep he brained a 
gigantic savage who at the moment was engaging Henry’s 
undivided attention. Bounding forward with a burst of 
anger, Gascoyne sought to close with Keona. He suc¬ 
ceeded but too well, however, for he could not check him¬ 
self sufficiently to deliver an effective blow, but went 
crashing against his enemy, and the two fell to the ground 
together. 

In an instant a rush was made on the fallen man; but 
Henry leapt forward, and sweeping down two opponents 
with one cut of his claymore, afforded his companion time 
to leap up. 

“ Come, we are quits,” said Henry, with a grim smile, 
as the two darted again on the foe. 

At that moment Ole Thorwald, having scattered the 
party he first engaged, came tearing down toward the 



THE MAN’S ANGER DEFEATED HIS PURPOSE. Page 80 
















THE SANDAL-WOOD TRADER 


81 


bridge, whirling the great sword round his head, and shout¬ 
ing “ victory ” in the voice of a Stentor. 

“ Hah! here is more work,” he cried, as his eye fell on 
Gascoyne’s figure. “ Thorwald to the rescue! hurrah!” 

In another moment the savages were flying pell-mell 
across the bridge with Gascoyne and Henry close on their 
heels, and the stout merchant panting after them, with his 
victorious band, as fast as his less agile limbs could carry 
him. 

✓ It was at this moment that Gascoyne and Henry noticed 
the attack made on the small party of sailors, and observed 
the fall of Mr. Mason. 

“ Thorwald to the rescue!” shouted Gascoyne, in a voice 
that rolled deep and loud over the whole field like the roar 
of a lion. 

“Ay, ay, my noisy stranger; it’s easy for your tough 
limbs to carry you up the hill,” gasped Ole, “ but the 
weight of ten or fifteen years will change your step. Hur¬ 
rah!” 

The cry of the bold Norseman, coupled with that of 
Gascoyne, had the double effect of checking the onset of 
the enemy, and of collecting their own scattered forces 
around them. The battle was now drawing to a point. 
Men who were skirmishing in various places left off and 
hastened to the spot on which the closing scene was now 
evidently to be enacted; and for a few minutes the contend¬ 
ing parties paused, as if by mutual consent, to breathe and 
scan each other before making the final attack. 

It must not be supposed that, during the fight which we 
have described, the crew of the Talisman were idle. At 
the first sign of disturbance on shore, the boats were low¬ 
ered, and a well-armed force rowed for the landing-place 


82 


GASCOYNE 


as swiftly as the strong and willing arms of the men could 
pull. But the distance between the vessel and the shore 
was considerable, and the events we have recounted were 
quickly enacted, so that before the boats had proceeded 
half the distance the fight was nearly over, and the settle¬ 
ment seemed about to be overwhelmed. 

These facts were not lost upon the first lieutenant of the 
Talisman , Mr. Mulroy, who, with telescope in hand, 
watched the progress of the fight with great anxiety. He 
saw that it was impossible for the boats to reach the shore 
in time to render efficient aid. He also observed that a 
fresh band of savages were hastening to reinforce their 
comrades, and that the united band would be so strong as 
to render the chances of a successful resistance on the part 
of the settlers very doubtful indeed — almost hopeless. 

In these circumstances he adopted a course which was 
as bold as it was dangerous. Observing that the savages 
mustered for the final onset in a dense mass on an eminence 
which just raised their heads a little above those of the 
party they were about to attack, he at once loaded three of 
the largest guns with round shot and pointed them at the 
mass of human beings with the utmost possible care. There 
was the greatest danger of hitting friends instead of foes, 
but Mr. Mulroy thought it his duty to incur the responsi¬ 
bility of running the risk. 

Montague, to whom the command of the United band of 
settlers had been given by general consent, had thrown 
them rapidly into some sort of order, and was about to 
give the word to charge, when the savage host suddenly 
began to pour down the hill with frantic yells. 

Mulroy did not hear the shouts, but he perceived the 
movement. Suddenly, as if a thunderstorm had burst 


THE SANDAL-WOOD TRADER 


83 


over the island, the echoes of the hills were startled by the 
roar of heavy artillery, and, one after another, the thiee 
guns hurled their deadly contents into the centre of the 
rushing mass, through which three broad lanes were cut in 
quick succession. 

The horrible noise and the dreadful slaughter in their 
ranks, seemed to render the affrighted creatures incapable 
of action, for they came to a dead halt. 

“ Well done, Mulroy,” shouted Montague, “ forward, 
boys — charge!” 

A true British cheer burst from the tars and white settlers, 
which served further to strike terror into the hearts of the 
enemy. In another moment they rushed up the hill, led 
on by Montague, Gascoyne, Henry, and Thorwald. But 
the savages did not await the shock. Seized with a com¬ 
plete panic, they turned and fled in utter confusion. 

Just as this occurred, Mr. Mason began to recover con¬ 
sciousness. Recollecting suddenly what had occurred, he 
started up and followed his friends, who were now in hot 
pursuit of the foe in the direction of his own cottage. 
Quickly though they ran, the anxious father overtook and 
passed them, but he soon perceived that his dwelling was 
wrapt in flames from end to end. 

Darting through the smoke and fire to his daughter’s 
room he shouted her name, but no voice replied. He 
sprang to the bed — it was empty. With a cry of despair, 
and blinded by smoke, he dashed about the room, grasping 
wildly at objects in the hope that he might find his child. 
As he did so he stumbled over a prostrate form, which he 
instantly seized, raised in his arms, and bore out of the 
blazing house, round which a number of the people were 
now assembled. 


84 


GASCOYNE 


The form he had thus plucked from destruction was 
that of the poor boy, who would willingly have given his 
life to rescue Alice, and who still lay in the state of in¬ 
sensibility into which he had been thrown by the blow from 
the savage’s heavy club. 

The missionary dropped his burden, turned wildly 
round, and was about to plunge once again into the heart 
of the blazing ruin, when he was seized in the strong arms 
of Henry Stuart, who, with the assistance of Ole Thor- 
wald, forcibly prevented him from doing that which would 
have resulted in almost certain death. 

The pastor’s head sunk on his breast; the excitement of 
action and hope no longer sustained him; — with a deep 
groan he fell to the earth insensible. 


THE SANDAL-WOOD TRADER 


85 


CHAPTER IX 

BAFFLED AND PERPLEXED—PLANS FOR A RESCUE 

While the men assembled round the prostrate form of Mr. 
Mason were attempting to rescue him from his state of 
stupor, poor Corrie began to shew symptoms of returning 
vitality. A can of water, poured over him by Henry, did 
much to restore him. But no sooner was he enabled to 
understand what was going on, and to recall what had 
happened, than he sprang up with a wild cry of despair, 
and rushed towards the blazing house. Again Henry’s 
quick arm arrested a friend in his mad career. 

“Oh! she’s there! Alice is there /” shrieked the boy, 
as he struggled passionately to free himself. 

“ You can do nothing, Corrie,” said Henry, trying to 
soothe him. 

“ Coward!” gasped the boy in a paroxysm of rage, as he 
clenched his fist and struck his captor on the chest with 
all his force. 

“ Hold him,” said Henry, turning to John Bumpus, who 
at that moment came up. 

Bumpus nodded intelligently, and seized the boy, who 
uttered a groan of anguish as he ceased a struggle which 
he felt was hopeless in such an iron gripe. 

“Now, friends — all of you,” shouted Henry, the mo¬ 
ment he was relieved of his charge, “ little Alice is in that 
house — we must pull it down! who will lend a hand?” 

He did not pause for an answer, but seizing an axe, 
rushed through the smoke and began to cut down the door- 


86 


GASCOYNE 


posts. The whole party there assembled, numbering about 
fifty, rushed forward, as one man, to aid in the effort. The 
attempt was a wild one. Had Henry considered for a 
moment, he would have seen that, in the event of their 
succeeding in pulling down the blazing pile, they would 
in all probability smother the child in the ruins. 

“ The shell is in the out-house," said Corrie, eagerly, to 
the giant who held him. 

“ Wot shell?" inquired Bumpus. 

“ The shell that they blow like a horn to call the people 
to work with.” 

“ Ah! you’re sane again," said the sailor, releasing him; 
11 go, find it, lad, and blow till yer cheeks crack.” 

Corrie was gone long before Jo had concluded even that 
short remark. In another second the harsh but loud 
sound of the shell rang over the hill-side. The settlers, 
black and white, immediately ceased their pursuit of the 
savages, and from every side they came trooping in by 
dozens. Without waiting to inquire the cause of what was 
being done, each man, as he arrived, fell to work on the 
blazing edifice, and, urged on by Henry’s voice and example, 
toiled and moiled in the midst of fire and smoke, until the 
pastor’s house was literally pulled to pieces. 

Fortunately for little Alice, she had been carried out of 
that house long before by Keona, who, being subtle as well 
as revengeful, knew well how to strike at the tenderest 
part of the white man’s heart. 

While her friends were thus frantically endeavouring to 
deliver her from the burning house in which they supposed 
her to be, Alice was being hurried through the woods by a 
steep mountain path in the direction of the native village. 
Happily for the feelings of her father, the fact was made 


THE SANDAL-WOOD TRADER 


87 


known, soon after the house had been pulled down, by the 
arrival of a small party of native settlers bearing one of 
the child’s shoes. They had found it, they said, sticking 
in the mud, about a mile off, and had tracked the little 
footsteps a long way into the mountains by the side of the 
prints made by the naked feet of a savage. At length they 
had lost the tracks amid the hard lava rocks and had given 
up the chase. 

“ We must follow them up instantly,” said Mr. Mason, 
who had by this time recovered; “ no time is to be lost.” 

“ Ay, time is precious, who will go?” cried Henry, who, 
begrimed with fire and smoke, and panting vehemently 
from recent exertion, had just at that moment come to¬ 
wards the group. 

“ Take me! Oh! take me, Henry!” cried Corrie, in a 
beseeching tone, as he sprang promptly to his friend’s side. 

At any other time, Henry would have smiled at the 
enthusiastic offer of such a small arm to fight the savages; 
but fierce anger was in his breast at that moment; — he 
turned from the poor boy and looked round with a frown, 
as he observed that, although the natives crowded round 
him at once, neither Gascoyne, nor Thorwald, nor Captain 
Montague shewed any symptom of an intention to accom¬ 
pany him. 

“ Nay, be not angry, lad,” said Gascoyne, observing the 
frown; “ your blood is young and hot, as it should be; but 
it behooves us to have a council of war before we set out on 
this expedition, which, believe me, will be no trifling one, 
if I know anything of savage ways and doings.” 

“ Mr. Gascoyne is right,” said Montague, turning to the 
missionary, who stood regarding the party with anxious 
looks, quite unable to offer advice on such an occasion, and 


88 


GASCOYNE 


clasping the little shoe firmly in both hands; “ it seems to 
me that those who know the customs of savage warfare 
should give their advice first. You may depend on all the 
aid that it is in my power to give.” 

“ Ole Thorwald is our leader when we are compelled to 
fight in self-defence,” said Mr. Mason; “ would God that 
it were less frequently we were obliged to demand his 
services. He knows what is best to be done.” 

“ I know what is best to do,” said Thorwald, “ when I 
have to lead men into action, or to shew them how to fight. 
But, to say truth, I don’t plume myself on possessing more 
than an average share of the qualities of the terrier dog. 
When niggers are to be hunted out of holes in the moun¬ 
tains like rabbits, I will do what in me lies to aid in the 
work; but I would rather be led than lead if you can find 
a better man.” 

Thorwald said this with a rueful countenance, for he had 
hoped to have settled this war in a pitched battle; and 
there were few things the worthy man seemed to enjoy 
more than a stand-up fight on level ground. A fair field 
and no favour was his delight, but climbing the hills was 
his mortal aversion. He was somewhat too corpulent and 
short of wind for that. 

” Come, Gascoyne,” said Henry, “ you know more 
about the savages than anybody here, and if I remember 
rightly, you have told me that you are acquainted with 
most of the mountain passes.” 

“ With all of them, lad,” interposed Gascoyne; “I 
know every pass and cavern on the island.” 

“ What, then, would you advise?” asked Montague. 

“If a British officer can put himself under a simple 


THE SANDAL-WOOD TRADER 


89 


trading skipper,” said Gascoyne, 44 I may perhaps shew 
what ought to be done in this emergency.” 

44 I can co-operate with any one who proves himself 
worthy of confidence,” retorted Montague, sharply. 

44 Well, then,” continued the other, 44 it is in vain to 
think of doing any good by a disorderly chase into moun¬ 
tains like these. I would advise that our forces be divided 
into three. One band under Mr. Thorwald should go 
round by the Goat’s Pass, to which I will guide him, and 
cut off the retreat of the savages there. Another party 
under my friend Henry Stuart should give chase in the 
direction in which little Alice seems to have been taken, 
and a third party, consisting of his Majesty’s vessel the 
Talisman and crew, should proceed round to the north side 
of the island and bombard the native village.” 

44 The Goat’s Pass,” growled Thorwald, 44 sounds un¬ 
pleasantly rugged and steep in the ears of a man of my 
weight and years, Mister Gascoyne. But if there’s no 
easier style of work to be done, I fancy I must be content 
with what falls to my lot.” 

44 And, truly,” added Montague, 44 methinks you might 
have assigned me a more useful, as well as more congenial 
occupation than the bombardment of a mud village full of 
women and children — for I doubt not that every able- 
bodied man has left it, to go on this expedition.” 

44 You’ll not find the Goat’s Pass so bad as you think, 
good Thorwald,” returned Gascoyne, 44 for I propose that 
the Talisman or her boats should convey you and your 
men to the foot of it, after which your course will be in¬ 
deed rugged, but it will be short; — merely to scale the 
face of a precipice that would frighten a goat to think of, 
and then a plain descent into the valley where, I doubt 


90 


GASCOYNE 


not, these villains will be found in force; and where, cer¬ 
tainly, they will not look for the appearance of a stout 
generalissimo of half savage troops. As for the bombard¬ 
ing of a mud village, Mr. Montague, I should have ex¬ 
pected a well-trained British officer ready to do his duty 
whether that duty were agreeable or otherwise.” 

“ My duty , certainly,” interrupted the young captain, 
hotly, “ but I have yet to learn that your orders constitute 
my duty.” 

The bland smile with which Gascoyne listened to this 
tended rather to irritate than to soothe Montague’s feel¬ 
ings; but he curbed the passion which stirred his breast, 
while the other went on- 

“No doubt the bombarding of a defenceless village is 
not pleasant work, but the result will be important, for it 
will cause the whole army of savages to rush to the protec¬ 
tion of their women and children; thereby disconcerting 
their plans — supposing them to have any — and enabling 
us to attack them while assembled in force. It is the nature 
of savages to scatter, and so to puzzle trained forces,— and 
no doubt those of his Majesty are well trained. But 1 one 
touch of nature makes the whole world kin,’ says a great 
authority; and it is wonderful how useful a knowledge of 
the various touches of nature is in the art of war. It may 
not have occurred to Mr. Montague that savages have a 
tendency to love and protect their wives and children as 
well as civilised men, and that-” 

“ Pray, cease your irrelevant remarks; they are ill- 
timed,” said Montague, impatiently. “ Let us hear the 
remainder of your suggestions. I shall judge of their 
value and act accordingly. You have not yet told us what 
part you yourself intend to play in this game.” 




THE SANDAL-WOOD TRADER 


91 


“ I mean to accompany Captain Montague, if he will 
permit me.” 

“ How! go with me in the Talisman?” said Montague, 
surprised at the man’s coolness, and puzzled by his im¬ 
pudence. 

“ Even so,” said Gascoyne. 

“ Well, I have no objection, of course; but it seems to 
me that you would be more useful at the head of a party of 
your own men.” 

“ Perhaps I might,” replied Gascoyne; “ but the coral 
reefs are dangerous on the north side of the island, and it 
is important that one well acquainted with them should 
guide your vessel. Besides, I have a trusty mate, and if 
you will permit me to send my old shipmate, John Bumpus, 
across the hills, he will convey all needful instructions to 
the Foam.” 

This was said in so quiet and straightforward a tone that 
Montague’s wrath vanished. He felt ashamed of having 
shewn so much petulance at a time when affairs of so great 
importance ought to have been calmly discussed, so he at 
once agreed to allow Bumpus to go. Meanwhile Henry 
Stuart, who had been fretting with impatience at this con¬ 
versation, suddenly exclaimed — 

“ It seems to me, sirs, that you are wasting precious 
time just now. I, at least, am quite satisfied with the 
duty assigned to me, so I’m off — ho! who will join me?” 

“I’m your man,” cried Corrie, starting up and flourish¬ 
ing the broken sabre above his head. At the same moment 
about a hundred natives ranged themselves round the 
youth, thus indicating that they, too, were his men. 

“ Well, lad, away you go,” said Gascoyne, smiling, “ but 
Master Corrie must remain with me.” 


92 


GASCOYNE 


“ I’ll do nothing of the sort,” said Corrie, stoutly. 

“Oh! yes you will, my boy. I want you to guide my 
man Bumpus over the mountains. You know the passes, 
and he don’t. It’s all for the good of the cause, you know, 
— the saving of little Alice.” 

Corrie wavered. The • idea of being appointed, as it 
were, to a separate command, and of going with his new 
friend, was a strong temptation, and the assurance that 
he would in some way or other be advancing the business 
in hand settled the matter. He consented to become obe¬ 
dient. 

In about half an hour all Gascoyne’s plans were in course 
of being carried out. Ole Thorwald and his party pro¬ 
ceeded on board the Talisman, which weighed anchor, and 
sailed, with a light breeze, towards the north end of the 
island — guided through the dangerous reefs by Gascoyne. 
Henry and his followers were toiling nimbly up the hills 
in the direction indicated by the little footprints of Alice; 
and John Bumpus, proceeding into the mountains in an¬ 
other direction, pushed, under the guidance of Corrie, 
towards the bay where the Foam still lay quietly at anchor. 

It was evening when these different parties set out on 
their various expeditions. The sun was descending to the 
horizon in a blaze of lurid light. The slight breeze, which 
wafted his Britannic Majesty’s ship slowly along the 
verdant shore, was scarcely strong enough to ruffle the 
surface of the sea. Huge banks of dark clouds were 
gathering in the sky, and a hot unnatural closeness seemed 
to pervade the atmosphere, as if a storm were about to 
burst upon the scene. Everything, above and below, 
seemed to presage war — alike elemental and human — 
and the various leaders of the several expeditions felt that 


THE SANDAL-WOOD TRADER 


93 


the approaching night would tax their powers and resources 
to the uttermost. 

It was, then, natural that in such circumstances the 
bereaved father should be distracted with anxiety as to 
which party he should join. 

He finally resolved to accompany the party under com¬ 
mand of Henry Stuart. 


94 


GASCOYNE 


CHAPTER X 

THE PURSUIT— POOPY, LED ON BY LOVE AND HATE, RUSHES 
TO THE RESCUE 

The shades of night had begun to descend upon the island 
when Master Corrie reached the summit of the mountain 
ridge that divided the bay in which the Foam was anchored 
from the settlement of Sandy Cove. 

Close on his heels followed the indomitable Jo Bumpus, 
who panted vehemently and perspired profusely from his 
unwonted exertions. 

“ Wot an object you are,” exclaimed Corrie, gazing at 
the hot giant with a look of mingled surprise and glee — 
for the boy’s spirit was of that nature which cannot repress 
a dash of fun even in the midst of anxiety and sorrow. 

Jo Bumpus smiled benignantly, and said that he “ was 
glad to hear it.” For Jo had conceived for the boy that 
species of fondness which large dogs are frequently known 
to entertain for small ones — permitting them to take out¬ 
rageous liberties with their persons which they would resent 
furiously were they attempted by other dogs. 

Presently the warm visage of Bumpus elongated, and 
his eyes opened uncommonly wide as he stared at a par¬ 
ticular spot in the ground; insomuch that Corrie burst into 
an uncontrollable fit of laughter. 

“ O Grampus, you’ll kill me if you go on like that,” said 
he; “I can’t stand it. Indeed I can’t. Sich a face! D’ye 
know what it’s like?” 

Jo expressed no desire to become enlightened on this 


THE SANDAL-WOOD TRADER 


95 


point, but continued to gaze so earnestly that Corrie started 
up and exclaimed — 

“ What is it, Jo?” 

“ A fut!” replied Jo. 

11 A footprint, I declare!” shouted the boy, springing 
forward and examining the print, which was pretty clearly 
defined in a little patch of soft sand that lay on the bare 
rock. “ Why, Jo, it’s Poopy’s. I’d know it anywhere by 
the bigness of the little toe. How can she have come up 
here?” 

“ I say, lad, hist!” said Bumpus, in a hoarse whisper, 
“ here’s another fut that don’t belong to — what’s her name 
— Puppy, did ye say?” 

“ Why, it’s Alice’s,” whispered the boy, his face be¬ 
coming instantly grave, while an unwonted expression of 
anxiety crossed it, “ and here’s that of a savage beside it. 
He must have changed his intention, or, perhaps, he came 
this way to throw the people who were chasing them off 
the scent.” 

Corrie was right. Finding that he was hotly pursued, 
Keona had taken advantage of the first rocky ground he 
reached to diverge abruptly from the route he had hitherto 
followed in his flight; and, the further to confuse his pur¬ 
suers, he had taken the almost exhausted child up in his 
arms and carried her a considerable distance, so that if his 
enemies should fall again on his track the absence of the 
little footprints might induce them to fancy they were 
following up a wrong scent. 

In this he was so far successful, for the native settlers, 
as we have seen, soon gave up the chase, and returned with 
one of the child’s shoes, which had fallen off unobserved 
by the savage. 


96 


GASCOYNE 


But there was one of the pursuers who was far ahead of 
the others, and who was urged to continue the chase by 
the strongest of all motives — love. Poor Kekupoopi had 
no sooner heard of the abduction of her young mistress, 
than she had set off at the top of her speed to a well-known 
height in the mountains, whence, from a great distance, 
she could observe all that went on below. On the wings 
of affection she had flown, rather than walked, to this point 
of observation, and, to her delight, saw not only the pur¬ 
suers, but the fugitives, in the valley below. She kept her 
glowing eyes fixed on them, hastening from rock to rock 
and ridge to ridge, as intervening obstacles hid them from 
view, until she saw the stratagem, just referred to, prac¬ 
tised by Keona. Then, feeling that she had no power of 
voice to let the pursuers know what had occurred, and 
seeing that they would certainly turn back on being baffled, 
she resolved to keep up the chase herself — trusting to acci¬ 
dent to afford her an opportunity of rendering aid to Alice. 

Taking a short cut down into the valley,— for she was 
well acquainted with all the wild and rugged paths of the 
mountains in the immediate neighbourhood of the settle¬ 
ment,— she was so fortunate as to reach a narrow pass, 
through which Keona and Alice must needs go. Arriving 
there a short time before they did, she was able to take a 
few minutes rest before resuming the chase. 

Little did the wily savage think that a pair of eyes as 
dark and bright, though not so fierce as his own, were 
gazing at him from behind the bushes as he sped up that 
narrow gorge. 

Poor Alice was running and stumbling by his side; for 
the monster held her by the hand and dragged her along, 
although she was scarcely able to stand. The heart of the 


THE SANDAL-WOOD TRADER 


97 


black girl well-nigh burst with anger when she observed 
that both her shoes and stockings had been torn off in the 
hasty flight and that her tender feet were cut and bleeding. 

Just as they reached the spot near which Poopy was 
concealed, the child sank with a low wail to the ground, 
unable to advance another step. Keona seized her in his 
arms, and, uttering a growl of anger as he threw her rudely 
over his shoulder, bore her swiftly away. 

But, quick though his step was, it could not outrun that 
of the poor little dark maiden who followed him like his 
shadow, carefully keeping out of view, however, while her 
mind was busy with plans for the deliverance of her young 
mistress. 

On reaching the highest ridge of the mountains, Keona 
suddenly stopped, placed Alice on a flat rock and went to 
the top of a peak not more than fifty yards off. Here he 
lay down and gazed long and earnestly over the country 
through which they had just passed, evidently for the pur¬ 
pose of discovering, if possible, the position and motions 
of his enemies. 

Poopy, whose wits were sharpened by love, at once took 
advantage of her opportunity. She crept on all fours 
towards the rock on which Alice lay, in such a manner that 
it came between her person and the savage. 

“ Missy Alice! Oh! missy Alice! quick, look up, it’s me 
— Poopy,” said the girl, raising her head cautiously above 
the edge of the rock. 

Alice started up on one elbow, and was about to utter a 
scream of delight and surprise, when her sable friend laid 
her black paw suddenly on the child’s pretty mouth and 
effectually shut it up. 

“Hush! Alice; no cry. Savage hear and come back — 


98 


GASCOYNE 


kill Poopy bery much quick. Listen. Me all alone. You 
very clibber. Dry up eyes, no cry any more. Look 
happy. Poopy nebber leave you.” 

Just at this point, Keona rose, and the girl, who had not 
suffered her eyes to move from him for a single instant, at 
once sunk behind the rock and crept so silently away that 
Alice could scarcely persuade herself that she had not been 
dreaming. 

The savage returned, took the child’s hand, led her over 
the brow of the mountain, and began to descend by a steep 
rugged path to the valleys lying on the other side of the 
island. But before going a hundred yards down the dark 
gorge — which was rendered all the darker by the approach 
of night — he turned abruptly aside, entered the mouth of a 
cavern and disappeared. 

Poopy was horrified at this unexpected and sudden 
change in the state of things. For a long time she lay 
closely hid among the rocks within twenty yards of the 
cave’s mouth, expecting every moment to see the fugitives 
issue from its dark recesses. But they did not reappear- 
All at once it occurred to the girl that there might possibly 
be an exit from the cavern at the other end of it, and that, 
while she was idly waiting there, her little mistress and her 
savage captor might be hastening down the mountain far 
beyond her reach. 

Rendered desperate by this idea, she quitted her place of 
concealment, and ran recklessly into the cavern. But the 
place was dark, and the ground was so rugged that she 
tripped and fell before she had advanced into it more than 
fifty yards. 

Bruised by the fall, and overawed by the gloom of her 
situation, the poor girl lay still for some time where she 


THE SANDAL-WOOD TRADER 


99 


had fallen, with bated breath, and listening intently; but 
no sound struck her ear save the beating of her own heart, 
which appeared to her unnaturally loud. Under an im¬ 
pulse of terror, she rose and ran back into the open air. 

Here it occurred to her that she might perhaps find the 
other outlet to the cave — supposing that one really existed 
— by going round the hill and carefully examining the 
ground on the other side. This, however, was a matter 
requiring considerable time, and it was not until a full 
hour had expired that she returned to the mouth of the 
cave, and sat down to rest and consider what should be 
done next. 

To enter the dark recesses of the place without a light 
she knew would be impossible as well as useless, and she 
had no means of procuring a light. Besides, even if she 
had, what good could come of her exploration? The next 
impulse was to hasten back to the settlement at full speed 
and guide a party to the place; but, was it likely that the 
savage would remain long in the cave? This question sug¬ 
gested her former idea of the possible existence of another 
outlet; and as she thought upon Alice being now utterly 
beyond her reach, she covered her face with her hands and 
burst into tears. 

“ Oh! w’at for was me born?” she inquired, somewhat 
viciously. 

“ Me should be dead. W’at’s de use o’ life w’en urns 
nothin’ to live for? Alice gone! Darling Alice! Oh! dear. 
Now Alice gone — whar’ to, nobody nose an’ nobody care, 
’xcept Poopy, who’s not worth a brass button! ” 

Having given utterance to this last expression, which 
she had acquired from her friend Corrie, the poor girl 
began to howl in order to relieve her insupportable feelings. 



100 


GASCOYNE 


It was at this point in our story that Master Corrie, and 
his companion the Grampus, having traced the before- 
mentioned footprints for a considerable distance, heard 
sundry unearthly sounds, on hearing which, never having 
heard anything like them before, these wanderers stood 
still in attitudes of breathless attention and gazed at each 
other with looks of indescribable amazement, not alto¬ 
gether unmixed with a dash of consternation. 


THE SANDAL-WOOD TRADER 


101 


CHAPTER XI 

A GHOST — A TERRIBLE COMBAT ENDING IN A DREADFUL 
PLUNGE 

“ Corrie,” said Jo Bumpus, solemnly, with a troubled 
expression on his grave face: “ I’ve heer’d a-many a,cry 
in this life, both ashore and afloat; but, since I was half as 
long as a marlinespike, I’ve never heer’d the likes o’ that 
there screech nowhere.” 

At any other time the boy would have expressed a doubt 
as to the possibility of the Grampus having, at any period 
of his existence, been so short as “ half the length of a 
marlinespike”; but, being very imaginative by nature, and 
having been encouraged to believe in ghosts by education, 
he was too frightened to be funny. With a face that might 
very well have passed for that of a ghost, and a very pale 
ghost too, he said, in a tremulous voice — 

“Oh! dear Bumpus, what shall we do?” 

“ Dun know,” replied Jo, very sternly; for the stout 
mariner also believed in ghosts, as a matter of course 
(although he would not admit it); and, being a man of iron 
mould and powerful will, there was at that moment going 
on within his capacious breast a terrific struggle between 
natural courage and supernatural cowardice. 

. “ Let’s go back,” whispered Corrie. “ I know another 
pass over the hills. It’s a longer one, to be sure; but we 
can run, you know, to make for-” 

He was struck dumb and motionless at this point by the 



102 


GASCOYNE 


recurrence of the dreadful howling, louder than ever, as 
poor Poopy’s despair deepened. 

“ Don’t speak to me, boy,” said Bumpus, still more 
sternly, while a cold sweat stood in large beads on his pale 
forehead. “ Here’s wot I calls somethin’ new, an’ it be¬ 
comes a man, specially a British seaman, d’ye see, to in¬ 
quire into new things in a reasonable sort of way.” 

Jo caught his breath, and clutched the rock beside him 
powerfully, as he continued — 

“ It ain’t a ghost, in course; it can't be that. Cause 
why? there’s no sich a thing as a ghost-” 

“ Ain’t there?” whispered Corrie, hopefully. 

The hideous yell that Poopy here set up, seemed to give 
the lie direct to the sceptical seaman; but he went on 
deliberately, though with a glazed eye, and a death-like 
pallor on his face — 

“ No; there ain’t no ghosts — never wos, an’ never will 
be. All ghosts is sciencrific dolusions, nothing more; and 
it’s only the hignorant as b’lieves in ’em. I don’t; an’, 
wot’s more,” added Jo, with tremendous decision, “ I 
won't! ” 

At this point, the “ sciencrific dolusion ” recurred to her 
former idea of alarming the settlement; and with this view 
began to retrace her steps, howling as she went. 

Of course, as Jo and his small companion had been 
guided by her footsteps, it followed that Poopy, in retracing 
them, gradually drew near to the terrified pair. The short 
twilight of those regions had already deepened into the 
shades of night; so that the poor girl’s form was not at first 
visible, as she advanced from among the dark shadows of 
the overhanging cliffs and the large masses of scattered 
rock that lay strewn about that wild mountain pass. 



THE SANDAL-WOOD TRADER 


103 


Now, although John Bumpus succeeded, by an almost 
supernatural effort, in calming the tumultuous agitation of 
his spirit, while the wild cries of the girl were at some dis¬ 
tance, he found himself utterly bereft of speech when the 
dreadful sounds unmistakably approached him. Corrie, 
too, became livid, and both were rooted to the spot in 
unutterable horror; but when the ghost at length actually 
came into view, and (owing to Poopy’s body being dark, 
and her garments white), presented the appearance of a 
dimly luminous creature, without head, arms, or legs, the 
last spark of endurance in man and boy went out. The one 
gave a roar, the other a shriek, of terror, and both turned 
and fled like the wind over a stretch of country, which, in 
happier circumstances, they would have crossed with cau¬ 
tion. 

Poopy helped to accelerate their flight by giving vent to 
a cry of fear, and thereafter to a yell of delight, as, from 
her point of view, she recognised the well-known outline 
of Corrie’s figure clearly defined against the sky. She 
ran after them in frantic haste; but she might as well have 
chased a couple of wild cats. Either terror is gifted with 
better wings than hope, or males are better runners than 
females. Perhaps both propositions are true; but certain 
it is that Poopy soon began to perceive that the succour 
which had appeared so suddenly, was about to vanish 
almost as quickly. 

In this new dilemma, the girl once more availed herself 
of her slight knowledge of the place, and made a detour, 
which enabled her to shoot ahead of the fugitives and inter¬ 
cept them in one of the narrowest parts of the mountain- 
gorge. Here, instead of using her natural voice, she con¬ 
ceived that the likeliest way of making her terrified friends 


104 


GASCOYNE 


understand who she was, would be to shout with all the 
strength of her lungs. Accordingly, she planted herself 
suddenly in the centre of their path, just as the two came 
tearing blindly round a corner of rock, and set up a series 
of yells, the nature of which utterly beggars description. 

The result was, that with one short wild cry of renewed 
horror, Bumpus and Corrie turned sharp round and fled in 
the opposite direction. 

There is no doubt whatever that they would have suc¬ 
ceeded in ultimately escaping from this pertinacious ghost, 
and poor Poopy would have had to make the best of her 
way to Sandy Cove alone, but for the fortunate circum¬ 
stance that Corrie fell; and, being only a couple of paces 
in advance of his companion, Bumpus fell over him. 

The ghost took advantage of this to run forward, crying 
out, “ Corrie! Corrie! Corrie! — it’s me! mel ME!” with 
all her might. 

“Eh! I do believe it knows my name,” cried the boy, 
scrambling to his feet, and preparing to renew his flight; 
but Bumpus laid his heavy hand on his collar, and held 
him fast. 

“ Wot! Did it speak?” 

“ Yes; listen! Oh, dear! come, fly!” 

Instead of flying, the seaman heaved a deep sigh; and, 
sitting down on a rock, took out a reddish brown cotton 
handkerchief wherewith he wiped his forehead. 

“ My boy,” said he, still panting; “ it ain’t a ghost. No 
ghost wos ever known to speak. They looks, an’ they 
runs, an’ they yells, an’ they vanishes, but they never 
speaks; d’ye see? I told ye it was a sciencrific dolusion; 
though, I’m bound for to confess, I never heer’d o’ von o’ 


THE SANDAL-WOOD TRADER 


105 


them critters speakin’, no more than the ghosts. How- 
somedever, that’s wot it is.” 

Corrie, who still hesitated, and held himself in readiness 
to bolt at a moment’s notice, suddenly cried — 

“ Why, I do believe it’s-No: it can’t be — yes — I 

say, it’s Poopyl ” 

“ Wot’s Poopy?” inquired the seaman, in some anxiety. 

“ What, don’t you know Poopy, Alice’s black maid, 
who keeps her company, and looks after her; besides 
‘ doin’ ’ her, and ‘ undoin’ ’ her (as she calls it), night and 
morning, and putting her to bed? Hooray! Poopy, my 
lovely black darling; where have you come from? You’ve 
frightened Bumpus here nearly out of his wits. I do 
believe he’d have bin dead by this time, but for me!” 

So saying, Corrie, in the revulsion of his suddenly re¬ 
lieved feelings, actually threw his arms round Poopy, and 
hugged her. 

“ O Corrie,” exclaimed the girl, submitting to the em¬ 
brace with as much indifference as if she had been a lamp- 
post, “ w’at troble you hab give me. Why you run so? 
sure, you know me voice.” 

“ Know it, my sweet lump of charcoal; I’d know it 
among a thousand, if ye’d only use it in its own pretty 
natural tones; but, if you will go and screech like a bottle- 
imp, you know,” said Corrie, remonstratively, “ how can 
you expect a stupid feller like me to recognise it?” 

“ There ain’t no sich things as bottle-imps, no more nor 
ghosts,” observed Bumpus; “ but hold your noise, you 
chatter-box, and let’s hear wot the gal’s got to say. May¬ 
hap she knows summat about Alice?” 

At this, Poopy manufactured an expression on her sable 


106 


GASCOYNE 


countenance, which was meant to be intensely knowing 
and suggestive. 

“ Don’t I? Yes, me do,” said she. 

“ Out with it then at once, you pot of shoe-blacking,” 
cried the impatient Corrie. 

The girl immediately related all that she knew regarding 
the fugitives, stammering very much from sheer anxiety to 
get it all out as fast as she could, and delaying her com¬ 
munication very much in consequence, besides rendering 
her meaning rather obscure — sometimes unintelligible. In¬ 
deed, the worthy seaman could scarcely understand a word 
she said. He sat staring at the whites of her eyes, which, 
with her teeth, were the only visible parts of her counte¬ 
nance at that moment, and swayed his body to and fro, as 
if endeavouring by a mechanical effort to arrive at a philo¬ 
sophical conception of something exceedingly abstruse. But 
at the end of each period he turned to Corrie for a transla¬ 
tion. 

At length, both man and boy became aware of the state 
of things, and Corrie started up, crying — 

“ Let’s go into the cave at once.” 

“ Hold on, boy,” cried Bumpus, “ we must have a council 
of war, d’ye see? That black monster Keona may have gone 
right through the cave and corned out at t’other end of it, 
in w’ich case it’s all up with our chance o’ findin’ ’em to¬ 
night. But if they’ve gone in to spend the night there, 
why we’ve nothin’ to do but watch at the mouth of it till 
mornin’ an’ nab ’em as they comes out.” 

“ Yes; but how are we to know whether they’re in the 
cave or not?” said Corrie, impatiently. 

“ Ah! that’s the puzzler,” replied Bumpus, in a medita¬ 
tive way; “ but, of course, we must look out for puzzlers 


THE SANDAL-WOOD TRADER 


107 


ahead sometimes w’en we gets into a land storm, d’ye see; 
just as we looks out ahead for breakers in a storm at sea. 
Suppose now that I creeps into the cave and listens for 
’em. They’d never hear me, ’cause I’d make no noise.” 

“You might as well try to sail into it in a big ship with¬ 
out making noise, you Grampus.” 

To this the Grampus observed, that if the cave had only 
three fathoms of water in the bottom of it he would have 
no objection whatever to try. 

“ But,” added he, “ suppose you go in.” 

Corrie shook his head, and looked anxiously miserable. 

“ Well then,” said Bumpus, “ suppose we light two 
torches. I’ll take one in one hand, and this here cutlash in 
the other; and you’ll take t’other torch in one hand and 
your pistol in the other, and clap that bit of a broken sword 
’tween yer teeth, and we’ll give a horrid screech, and rush 
in pell-mell — all of a heap like. You could fire yer pistol 
straight before you on chance (it’s wonderful wot a chance 
shot will do sometimes), an’ if it don’t do nothin’, fling 
it right into the blackguard’s face — a brass-mounted tool 
like that ketchin’ him right on the end of his beak would 
lay him flat over, like a ship in a white squall.” 

“ And suppose,” said Corrie, in a tone of withering sar¬ 
casm, “ suppose all this happened to Alice, instead of the 
dirty nigger?” 

“Ah! to be sure. That’s a puzzler — puzzler number 
two.” 

Here Poopy, who had listened with great impatience to 
the foregoing conversation, broke in energetically. 

“ An’ s’pose,” said she, “ dat Keona and missy Alice 
comes out ob cave w’en you two be talkerin’ sich a lot of 
stuff?” 


108 


GASCOYNE 


It may as well be remarked, in passing, that Poopy had 
acquired a considerable amount of her knowledge of Eng¬ 
lish from Master Corrie. Her remark, although not 
politely made, was sufficiently striking to cause Bumpus to 
start up, and exclaim — 

“That’s true, gal; come shew us the way to this here 
cave.” 

There was a fourth individual present at this council of 
war who apparently felt a deep interest in its results, 
although he took no part in its proceedings. This was no 
other than Keona himself, who lay extended at full length 
among the rocks, not two yards from the spot where Bum- 
pus sat, listening intently and grinning from ear to ear with 
fiendish malice. 

The series of shrieks, howls, and yells, to which refer¬ 
ence has been made, had naturally attracted the attention 
of that wily savage when he was in the cave. Following 
the sounds with quick noiseless step, he soon found himself 
within a few paces of the deliberating trio. The savage did 
not make much of the conversation, but he gathered suffi¬ 
cient to assure himself that his hiding place had been dis¬ 
covered, and that plans were being laid for his capture. 

It would have been an easy matter for him to have leaped 
suddenly on the unsuspecting Bumpus, and driven a knife 
to his heart, after which, poor Corrie and the girl could 
have been easily dealt with; but fortunately (at least for 
his enemies, if not for himself), indecision in the moment 
of action was one of Keona’s besetting sins. He suspected 
that other enemies might be near at hand, and that the 
noise of the scuffle might draw them to the spot. He ob¬ 
served, moreover, that the boy had a pistol, which, besides 
being a weapon that acts quickly and surely, even in weak 


THE SANDAL-WOOD TRADER 


109 


hands, would give a loud report, and a bright flash that 
might be heard and seen at a great distance. Taking these 
things into consideration, he thrust back the knife which 
he had half unsheathed, and, retreating with the slow glid¬ 
ing motion of a serpent, got beyond the chance of being 
detected, just as Bumpus rose to follow Poopy to the cave. 

The savage entered its yawning mouth in a few seconds 
and glided noiselessly into its dark recesses like an evil 
spirit. Soon after, the trio reached the same spot and 
stood for some time silently gazing upon the thick darkness 
within. 

A feeling of awe crept over them as they stood thus, and 
a shudder passed through Corrie’s frame as he thought of 
the innumerable ghosts that might — probably did — in¬ 
habit that dismal place. But the thought of Alice served 
partly to drive away his fears and to steel his heart. He 
felt that the presence of such a sweet and innocent child 
must , somehow or other, subdue and baffle the power of 
evil spirits, and it was with some show of firmness that he 
said — 

“ Come, Bumpus, let’s go in; we are better without a 
torch, it would only show that we were coming; and as 
they don’t expect us, the savage may perhaps kindle a light 
which will guide us.” 

Bumpus, who was not sustained by any thoughts of the 
supposed power or influence of the little girl, and whose 
superstitious fears were again doing furious battle with his 
natural courage, heaved a deep sigh, ground his teeth 
together, and clenched his fists. 

Even in that dreadful hour the seaman’s faith in his 
physical invincibility, and in the terrible power of his fists, 
did not altogether fail. Although he wore a cutlass, and 


110 


GASCOYNE 


had used it that day with tremendous effect, he did not 
now draw it. He preferred to engage supernatural enemies 
with the weapons that nature had given him, and entered 
the cave on tiptoe with slow cautious steps; his fists tightly 
clenched and ready for instant action, yet thrust into the 
pockets of his coatee in a deceptively peaceful way, as if he 
meant to take the ghosts by surprise. 

Corrie followed him, also on tiptoe, with the broken 
sabre in his right hand, and the cocked pistol in his left, 
his forefinger being on the trigger, and the muzzle pointing 
straight at the small of the seaman’s back — if one may be 
permitted to talk of such an enormous back having any 
“ small ” about it! 

Poopy entered last, also on tiptoe, trembling violently, 
holding on with both hands to the waistband of Corrie’s 
trousers, and only restrained from instant flight by her 
anxieties and her strong love for little Alice. 

Thus, step by step, with bated breath and loudly beating 
hearts, pausing often to listen, and gasping in a subdued 
way at times, the three friends advanced from the gloom 
without into the thick darkness within, until their gliding 
forms were swallowed up. 

Now it so happened that the shouts and yells, to which 
we have more than once made reference in this chapter, 
attracted a band of savages who had been put to flight by 
Henry Stuart’s party. These rascals, not knowing what 
was the cause of so much noise up on the heights, and 
being much too well acquainted with the human voice in 
all its modifications to fancy that ghosts had anything to do 
with it, cautiously ascended towards the cavern, just a few 
minutes after the disappearance of John Bumpus and his 
companions. 


THE SANDAL-WOOD TRADER 


111 


Here they sat down to hold a palaver. While this was 
going on, Keona carried Alice in his unwounded arm to the 
other end of the cave, and, making his exit through a small 
opening at its inner extremity, bore his trembling captive 
to a rocky eminence, shaped somewhat like a sugar-loaf, on 
the summit of which he placed her. So steep were the 
sides of this cone of lava, that it seemed to Alice that she 
was surrounded by precipices over which she must cer¬ 
tainly tumble if she dared to move. 

Here Keona left her, having first, however, said, in a low 
stern voice — 

“If you moves, you dies!” 

The poor child was too much terrified to move, even had 
she dared, for she, too, had heard the unaccountable cries 
of Poopy, although, owing to distance and the wild nature 
of these cries, she had failed to recognise the voice. When, 
therefore, her jailor left her with this threat, she coiled 
herself up in the smallest possible space, and began to sob 
quietly. Meanwhile, Keona re-entered the cavern with a 
diabolical grin on his sable countenance, which, although 
it savoured more of evil than of any other quality, had in it, 
nevertheless, a strong dash of ferocious joviality, as if he 
were aware that he had got his enemies into a trap, and 
could amuse himself by playing with them as a cat does 
with a mouse. 

Soon the savage began to step cautiously, partly because 
of the rugged nature of the ground, and the thick darkness 
that surrounded him, and partly in order to avoid alarming 
the three adventurers who were advancing towards him 
from the other extremity of the cavern. In a few minutes 
he halted, for the footsteps and the whispering voices of 


112 


GASCOYNE 


his pursuers became distinctly audible to him, although all 
three did their best to make as little noise as possible. 

“ Wot a ’orrid place it is!” exclaimed Bumpus, in a 
hoarse angry whisper, as he struck his shins violently, for 
at least the tenth time, against a ledge of rock — “ I do 
b’lieve, boy, that there’s nobody here, and that we’d as 
well ’bout ship and steer back the way we’ve corned; tho’ 
it is a ’orrible coast for rocks and shoals.” 

To this, Corrie, not being in a talkative humour, made 
no reply. 

“ D’ye hear me, boy?” said Jo, aloud, for he was some¬ 
what shaken again by the dead silence that followed the 
close of his remark. 

“ All right, I’m here,” said Corrie, meekly. 

“ Then why don’t ye speak,” said Jo, tartly. 

“I’d advise you not to speak so loud,” retorted the boy. 

“ Is the dark ’un there?” inquired Bumpus. 

“ What d’ye say?” 

“ The dark ’un; the lump o’ charcoal, you know.” 

“ Oh! she’s all safe,” replied Corrie, “ I only hope she 
won’t haul the clothes right off my body; she grips at my 
waistband like a-” 

Here he was cut short by Keona, who gave utterance to 
a low dismal wail that caused the blood and marrow of all 
three to freeze up, and their hearts for a moment to leap 
into their throats and all but choke them. 

“ Poopy’s gone,” gasped Corrie, after a few seconds had 
elapsed. 

There was no doubt of the fact, for, besides the relief 
experienced by the boy, from the relaxing of her grip on 
his waistband the moment the wail was heard, the sound of 



THE SANDAL-WOOD TRADER 


113 


the girl’s footsteps as she flew back towards the entrance 
of the cave was distinctly heard. 

Keona waited a minute or two to ascertain the exact 
position of his enemies, then he repeated the wail and 
swelled it gradually out into a fiendish yell that awoke all 
the echoes of the place. At the same time, guessing his 
aim as well as he could, he threw a spear and discharged a 
shower of stones at the spot where he supposed they stood. 

There is no understanding the strange workings of the 
human mind! The very thing that most people would 
have expected to strike terror to the heart of Bumpus, was 
that which infused courage into his soul. The frightful 
tones of the savage’s voice in such a place did indeed 
almost prostrate the superstitious spirit of the seaman, but 
when he heard the spear whiz past within an inch of his 
ear, and received a large stone full on his chest, and several 
small ones on other parts of his person, that instant his 
strength returned to him, like that of Samson, when the 
Philistines attempted to fall upon him. His curiously 
philosophical mind at once leaped to the conclusion that, 
although ghosts could yell, and look, and vanish, they 
could not throw spears or fling stones, and that, therefore, 
the man they were in search of was actually close beside 
them. 

Acting on this belief, with immense subtlety Bumpus 
uttered a cry of feigned terror, and fled, followed by the 
panting Corrie, who uttered a scream of real terror at what 
he supposed must be the veritable ghost of the place. 

But before he had run fifty yards, John Bumpus suddenly 
came to a dead halt; seized Corrie by the collar, dragged 
him down behind a rock, and laid his large hand upon his 


114 


GASCOYNE 


mouth, as being the shortest and easiest way of securing 
silence, without the trouble of explanation. 

As he anticipated, the soft tread of the savage was heard 
almost immediately after, as he passed on in full pursuit. 
He brushed close past the spot where Bumpus crouched, 
and received from that able-bodied seaman such a blow on 
the shoulder of his wounded arm, as, had it been delivered 
in daylight, would have certainly smashed his shoulder 
blade. As it was, it caused him to stagger and sent him 
howling with pain to the mouth of the cavern, whither he 
was followed by the triumphant Jo, who now made sure of 
catching him. 

But “ there is many a slip ’twixt the cup and the lip.” 
When Keona issued from the cave, he was received with a 
shout by the band of savages, who instantly recognized 
him as their friend by his voice. Poor Poopy was already 
in their hands, having been seized and gagged when she 
emerged before she had time to utter a cry. And now 
they stood in a semi-circle ready to receive all who might 
come forth into their arms, or on their spear-points, as the 
case might be. 

Bumpus came out like an insane thunderbolt, and Corrie 
like a streak of lightning. Instantaneously the flash of the 
pistol, accompanied by its report and a deep growl from 
Bumpus, increased the resemblance to these meteorological 
phenomena, and three savages lay stunned upon the ground. 

“This way, Corrie!” cried the excited seaman, leaping 
to a perpendicular rock, against which he placed his back, 
and raised his fists in a pugilistic attitude. “ Keep one 
or two in play with your broken toothpick, an’ I’ll floor 
’em one after another as they comes up. Now, then, ye 


THE SANDAL-WOOD TRADER 


115 


black baboons, come on — all at once if ye like — an’ Jo 
Bumpus ’ll shew ye wot he’s made of!” 

Not perceiving very clearly, in the dim light caused by a 
few stars that flickered among the black and gathering 
clouds, the immense size and power of the man with whom 
they had to deal, the savages were not slow to accept this 
free and generous invitation to “ come on.” They rushed 
■forward in a body, intending, no doubt, to take the man 
and boy prisoners; for if they had wished to slay them, 
nothing would have been easier than to have thrown one 
or two of their spears at their defenceless breasts. 

Bumpus experienced a vague feeling that he had now a 
fair opportunity of testing and proving his invincibility; 
yet the desperate nature of the case did not induce him to 
draw his sword. He preferred his fists, as being superior 
and much more handy weapons. He received the first two 
savages who came within reach on the knuckles of his right 
and left hands, rendering them utterly insensible, and 
driving them against the two men immediately behind, with 
such tremendous violence, that they also were put hors de 
combat. 

This was just what Bumpus had intended and hoped for. 
The sudden fall of so many gave him time to launch out 
his great fists a second time. They fell with the weight of 
sledge-hammers on the faces of two more of his opponents, 
flattening their noses, and otherwise disfiguring their fea¬ 
tures, besides stretching them on the ground. At the same 
time, Corrie flung his empty pistol in the face of a man who 
attempted to assault his companion on the right flank 
unawares, and laid him prone on the earth. Another 
savage, who had made the same effort on the left, received 


116 


GASCOYNE 


a gash on the thigh from the broken sabre that sent him 
howling from the scene of conflict. 

Thus were eight savages disposed of in about as many 
seconds. 

But there is a limit to the powers and the prowess of 
man. The savages, on seeing the fall of so many of their 
companions, rushed in on Bumpus before he could recover 
himself for another blow. That is to say, the savages 
behind pushed forward those in front whether they would 
or no, and falling en masse on the unfortunate pair, well 
nigh buried them alive in black human flesh. 

Bumpus’s last cry before being smothered was, “ Down 
with the black varmints!” and Corrie’s last shout was, 
44 Hooray!” 

Thus fell — despite the undignified manner of their fail — 
a couple of as great heroes as were ever heard of in the 
annals of war; not excepting even those of Homer himself! 

Now, good reader, this may be all very well for us to 
describe, and for you to read, but it was a terrible thing for 
Poopy to witness. Being bound hand and foot she was 
compelled to look on; and, to say truth, she did look on 
with uncommon interest. When her friends fell, however, 
she expressed her regrets and fears in a subdued shriek, for 
which she received a sounding slap on the cheek from a 
young savage who had chosen for himself the comparatively 
dangerous post of watching her, while his less courageous 
friends were fighting. 

Strange to say, Poopy did not shed more tears (as one 
might have expected), on receiving such treatment. She 
had been used to that sort of thing, poor child. Before 
coming to the service of her little mistress, she had been 
brought up — (it would be more strictly correct to say that 


THE SANDAL-WOOD TRADER 


117 


she had been kicked, and cuffed, and pinched, and battered 
up) — by a step-mother, whose chief delight was to pull 
out handfuls of her woolly hair, beat her nose flat (which 
was adding insult to injury, for it was too flat by nature), 
and otherwise to maltreat her. When, therefore, Poopy 
received the slap referred to, she immediately dried her 
eyes and looked humble. But she did not by any means 
feel humble. No; a regard for truth compels us to state, 
that on this particular occasion, Poopy acted the part of a 
hypocrite. If her hands had been loose, and she had pos¬ 
sessed a knife just then — we are afraid to think of the 
dreadful use to which she would have put it! 

The natives spent a considerable time in securely binding 
their three captives, after which they bore them into the 
cavern. 

Here they kindled a torch and held a long palaver as to 
what was to be done with the prisoners. Some counselled 
instant death, others advised that they should be kept as 
hostages. The debate was so long and fierce, that the day 
had begun to break before it was concluded. It was at 
length arranged that they should be conveyed alive to their 
village, there to be disposed of according to the instructions 
of their chiefs. 

Feeling that they had already delayed too long, they 
placed the prisoners on their shoulders and bore them 
swiftly away. 

Poor Corrie and his sable friend were easily carried, 
coiled up like sacks, each on the shoulders of a stalwart 
savage; but Bumpus, who had required eight men to bind 
him, still remained unconvinced of his vincibility. He 
struggled so violently on the shoulders of the four men 
who bore him, that Keona, in a fit of passion, tinged no 


118 


GASCOYNE 


doubt with revenge, hit him such a blow on the head with 
the handle of an axe as caused his brains to sing, and a 
host of stars to dance before his eyes. 

These stars were, however, purely imaginary, for at that 
time the dawn had extinguished the lesser lights. Ere 
long, the bright beams of the rising sun suffused the eastern 
sky with a golden glow. On passing the place where Alice 
had been left, a couple of the party were sent by Keona to 
fetch her. They took the unnecessary precaution of bind¬ 
ing the poor child, and speedily rejoined their comrades, 
with her in their arms. 

The amazement of her friends on seeing Alice was only 
equalled by her surprise on beholding them. But they 
were not permitted to communicate with each other. Pres¬ 
ently the whole party emerged from the wild mountain 
gorges, through which they had been passing for some 
time, and proceeded in single file along a narrow path that 
skirted the precipices of the coast. The cliffs here were 
nearly a hundred feet high. They descended sheer down 
into deep water; in some places even overhung the sea. 

Here John Bumpus, having recovered from the stunning 
effects of the blow dealt him by Keona, renewed his strug¬ 
gles, and rendered the passage of the place not only diffi¬ 
cult, but dangerous — to himself as well as to his enemies. 
Just as they reached a somewhat open space on the top of 
the cliffs, Jo succeeded, by almost superhuman exertion, 
in bursting his bonds. Keona, foaming with rage, gave 
an angry order to his followers, who rushed upon Bumpus 
in a body as he was endeavouring to clear himself of the 
cords. Although John struck out manfully, the savages 
were too quick for him. They raised him suddenly aloft 
in their arms and hurled him headlong over the cliff! 


THE SANDAL-WOOD TRADER 


119 


The horror of his friends on witnessing this may easily 
be imagined, but every other feeling was swallowed up in 
terror when the savages, apparently rendered bloodthirsty 
by what they had done, ran towards Alice, and, raising her 
from the ground, hastened to the edge of the cliff, evidently 
with the intention of throwing her over also. 

Before they accomplished their fiendish purpose, how¬ 
ever, a sound like thunder burst upon their ears and 
arrested their steps. This was immediately followed by 
another crash, and then came a series of single reports in 
rapid succession which were multiplied by the echoes of the 
heights until the whole region seemed to tremble with the 
reverberation. 

At first the natives seemed awe-stricken. Then, on 
becoming aware that the sounds which originated all this 
tumult came from the direction of their own village, they 
dropped Alice on the ground, fled precipitately down the 
rugged path that led from the heights to the valley and 
disappeared, leaving the three captives, bound and help¬ 
less, on the cliffs. 


120 


GASCOYNE 


CHAPTER XII 

DANGEROUS NAVIGATION AND DOUBTFUL PILOTAGE- 

MONTAGUE IS HOT, GASCOYNE SARCASTIC 

We turn now to the Talisman , which, it will be remem¬ 
bered, we left making her way slowly through the reefs 
towards the northern end of the island, under the pilotage 
of Gascoyne. 

The storm, which had threatened to burst over the island 
at an earlier period of that evening, passed off far to the 
south. The light breeze which had tempted Captain Mon¬ 
tague to weigh anchor soon died away, and before night a 
profound calm brooded over the deep. 

When the breeze fell, Gascoyne went forward, and, 
seating himself on a forecastle carronade, appeared to fall 
into a deep reverie. Montague paced the quarter-deck im¬ 
patiently, glancing from time to time down the skylight at 
the barometer which hung in the cabin, and at the vane 
which drooped motionless from the mast-head. He acted 
with the air of a man who was deeply dissatisfied with the 
existing state of things, and who felt inclined to take the 
laws of nature into his own hands. Fortunately for nature 
and himself, he was unable to do this. 

Ole Thorwald exhibited a striking contrast to the active, 
impatient commander of the vessel. That portly individ¬ 
ual, having just finished a cigar which the first lieutenant 
had presented to him on his arrival on board, threw the 
fag end of it into the sea, and proceeded leisurely to fill 
a large-headed German pipe, which was the constant com- 


THE SANDAL-WOOD TRADER 


121 


panion of his waking hours, and the bowl of which seldom 
enjoyed a cool moment. 

Ole having filled the pipe, lighted it; then, leaning over 
the taffrail, he gazed placidly into the dark waters, which 
were so perfectly calm that every star in the vault above 
could be compared with its reflection in the abyss below. 

Ole Thorwald, excepting when engaged in actual battle, 
was phlegmatic, and constitutionally lazy and happy. 
When enjoying his German pipe he felt inexpressibly 
serene, and did not care to be disturbed. He therefore 
paid no attention to the angry manner of Montague, who 
brushed past him repeatedly, but continued to gaze down¬ 
wards and smoke calmly in a state of placid felicity. 

“You appear to take things coolly, Mister Thorwald,” 
said Montague, half in jest. 

“ I always do ” (puff) “ when the weather’s not warm.” 
(Puff, puff.) 

“ Humph!” ejaculated Montague, “ but the weather is 
warm just now; at least it seems so to me — so warm that 
I should not be surprised if a thunder squall were to burst 
upon us ere long.” 

“ Not a pleasant place to be caught in a squall,” returned 
the other, gazing through the voluminous clouds of smoke 
at several coral reefs, whose ragged edges just rose to the 
level of the calm sea without breaking its mirror-like sur¬ 
face; “ I’ve seen one or two fine vessels caught that way, 
just hereabouts, and go right down in the middle of the 
breakers.” 

Montague smiled, and the commander-in-chief of the 
Sandy Cove army fired innumerable broadsides from his 
mouth with redoubled energy. 

“ That is not a cheering piece of information,” said he, 


122 


GASCOYNE 


“ especially when one has reason to believe that a false 
man stands at the helm.” 

Montague uttered the latter part of his speech in a sub¬ 
dued earnest voice, and the matter-of-fact Ole turned his 
eyes slowly towards the man at the wheel; but observing 
that he who presided there was a short, fat, commonplace, 
and uncommonly jolly-looking seaman, he merely uttered 
a grunt and looked at Montague inquiringly. 

“ Nay, I mean not the man who actually holds the spokes 
of the wheel, but he who guides the ship.” 

Thorwald glanced at Gascoyne, whose figure was dimly 
visible in the fore part of the ship, and then looking at 
Montague in surprise shook his head gravely, as if to say — 
“I’m still in the dark — go on.” 

“ Can Mr. Thorwald put out his pipe for a few minutes 
and accompany me to the cabin? I would have a little 
converse on this matter in private.” 

Ole hesitated. 

“ Well, then,” said the other, smiling, “ you may take 
the pipe with you, although it is against rules to smoke in 
my cabin — but I’ll make an exception in your case.” 

Ole smiled, bowed, and, thanking the captain for his 
courtesy, descended to the cabin along with him and sat 
down on a sofa in the darkest corner of it. Here he smoked 
vehemently, while his companion, assuming a rather mys¬ 
terious air, said in an undertone — 

“You have heard, of course, that the pirate Durward 
has been seen, or heard of, in those seas?” 

Ole nodded. 

“ Has it ever struck you that this Gascoyne, as he calls 
himself, knows more about the pirate than he chooses to 
tell?” 


THE SANDAL-WOOD TRADER 


123 


“ Never,” replied Ole. Indeed nothing ever did strike 
the stout commander-in-chief of the forces. All new ideas 
came to him by slow degrees. But when they did gain an 
entrance into his thick head, nothing was ever known to 
drive them out again. As he did not seem inclined to com¬ 
ment on the hint thrown out by his companion, Montague 
continued, in a still more impressive tone — 

“ What would you say if this Gascoyne himself turned 
out to be the pirate?” 

The idea being a simple one, and the proper course to 
follow being rather obvious, Ole replied with unwonted 
promptitude — 

“ Put him in irons, of course, and hang him as soon as 
possible.” 

Montague laughed. “ Truly that would be a vigorous 
way of proceeding; but as I have no proof of the truth of 
my suspicions, and as the man is my guest at present, as 
well as my pilot, it behooves me to act more cautiously.” 

“ Not at all; by no means; you’re quite wrong, captain 
(which is the natural result of being young — all young 
people go wrong more or less); it is clearly your duty to 
catch a pirate anyhow you can, as fast as you can, and kill 
him without delay.” 

Here the sanguinary Thorwald paused to draw and puff 
into vitality the pipe which was beginning to die down, 
and Montague asked — 

“But how d’ you know he is the pirate?” 

“ Because you said so,” replied his friend. 

“Nay, I said that I suspected him to be Durward — 
nothing more.” 

“ And what more would you have?” cried Ole, whose 
calm spirit was ruffled with unusual violence at the thought 


124 


GASCOYNE 


of the hated Durward being actually within his reach. 
“ For my part, you are justified in taking him up on sus¬ 
picion, trying him in a formal way (just to save appear¬ 
ances) on suspicion, and hanging him at once on suspicion. 
Quite time enough to inquire into the matter after the 
villain is comfortably sewed up in a hammock with a thirty- 
pound shot at his heels, and sent to the bottom of the sea 
for the sharks and crabs. Suspicion is nine points of the 
law in these regions, Captain Montague, and we never 
allow the tenth point to interfere with the course of justice 
one way or another. Hang him, or shoot him if you prefer 
it, at once; that is what I recommend.” 

Just as Thorwald concluded this amiable piece of advice, 
the deep strong tones of Gascoyne’s voice were heard 
addressing the first lieutenant. 

“ You had better hoist your royals and skyscrapers, Mr. 
Mulroy; we shall have a light air off the land presently, 
and it will require all your canvas to carry the ship round 
the north point, so as to bring her guns to bear on the 
village of the savages.” 

“ The distance seems to me very short,” replied the 
lieutenant, “ and the Talisman sails faster than you may 
suppose with a light wind.” 

“ I doubt not the sailing qualities of your good ship, 
though I could name a small schooner that would beat 
them in light wind or storm; but you forget that we have 
to land our stout ally Mr. Thorwald with his men at the 
Goat’s Pass, and that will compel us to lose time, too much 
of which has been lost already.” 

Without reply, the lieutenant turned on his heel and 
gave the necessary orders to hoist the additional sails, 
while the captain hastened on deck, leaving Thorwald to 


THE SANDAL-WOOD TRADER 


125 


finish his pipe in peace, and ruminate on the suspicions 
which had been raised in his mind. 

In less than half an hour the light wind which Gascoyne 
had predicted came off the land, first in a series of what 
sailors term “ cats’ paws,” and then in a steady breeze 
which lasted several hours, and caused the vessel to slip 
rapidly through the still water. As he looked anxiously 
over the bow, Captain Montague felt that he had placed 
himself completely in the power of the suspected skipper 
of the Foam , for coral reefs surrounded him on all sides, 
and many of them passed so close to the ship’s side that 
he expected every moment to feel the shock that would 
wreck his vessel and his hopes at the same time. He 
blamed himself for trusting a man whom he supposed he 
had such good reason to doubt, but consoled himself by 
thrusting his hand into his bosom and grasping the handle 
of a pistol, with which, in the event of the ship striking, 
he had made up his mind to blow out Gascoyne’s brains. 

About an hour later the Talisman was hove-to off the 
Goat’s Pass, and Ole Thorwald was landed with his party 
at the base of a cliff which rose sheer up from the sea like 
a wall. 

“ Are we to go up there?” inquired Ole in a rueful tone 
of voice, as he surveyed a narrow chasm to which Gascoyne 
guided him. 

“ That is the way. It’s not so bad as it looks. When 
you get to the top, follow the little path that leads along 
the cliffs northward, and you will reach the brow of a hill 
from which the native village will be visible. Descend 
and attack it at once, if you find men to fight with — if not, 
take possession quietly. Mind you don’t take the wrong 
turn; it leads to places where a wild-cat would not venture 


126 


GASCOYNE 


even in daylight. If you attend to what I have said, you 
can’t go wrong. Good night. Shove off.” 

The oars splashed in the sea at the word, and Gascoyne 
returned to the ship, leaving Ole to lead his men up the 
Pass as he best might. 

It seemed as if the pilot had resolved to make sure of 
the destruction of the ship that night; for, not content with 
running her within a foot or two of innumerable reefs, he 
at last steered in so close to the shore that the beetling 
cliffs actually seemed to overhang the deck. When the 
sun rose, the breeze died away; but sufficient wind con¬ 
tinued to fill the upper sails and to urge the vessel gently 
onward for some time after the surface of the sea was calm. 

Montague endeavoured to conceal and repress his anxiety 
as long as possible, but when at length a line of breakers 
without any apparent opening presented themselves right 
ahead he went up to Gascoyne and said in a stern under¬ 
tone — 

“ Are you aware that you forfeit your life if my vessel 
strikes?” 

“ I know it,” replied Gascoyne, coolly throwing away 
the stump of his cigar and lighting a fresh one, “ but I 
have no desire either to destroy your vessel or to lose my 
life; although, to say truth, I should have no objection, in 
other circumstances, to attempt the one and to risk the 
other.” 

“ Say you so?” said Montague, with a sharp glance at 
the countenance of the other, where, however, he could 
perceive nothing but placid good humour; “ that speech 
sounds marvellously warlike, methinks, in the mouth of a 
sandal-wood trader.” 

“ Think you, then,” said Gascoyne, with a smile of con- 


THE SANDAL-WOOD TRADER 


127 


tempt, “ that it is only your fire-eating men of war who 
experience bold impulses and heroic desires?” 

“ Nay, but traders are not wont to aspire to the honour 
of fighting the ships that are commissioned to protect 
them.” 

“ Truly, if I had sought protection from the warships of 
the king of England, I must have sailed long and far to 
find it,” returned Gascoyne. “ It is no child’s play to 
navigate these seas, where blood-thirsty savages swarm in 
their canoes like locusts. Moreover I sail, as I have told 
you before, in the China Seas where pirates are more com¬ 
mon than honest traders. What would you say if I were 
to take it into my head to protect myself?” 

“ That you were well able to do so,” answered Mon¬ 
tague, with a smile; “but when I examined the Foam I 
found no arms save a few cutlasses and rusty muskets that 
did not seem to have been in recent use.” 

“ A few bold men can defend themselves with any kind 
of weapons. My men are stout fellows not used to flinch 
at the sound of a round shot passing over their heads.” 

The conversation was interrupted here by the ship 
rounding a point and suddenly opening up a view of a fine 
bay, at the head of which, embosomed in trees and dense 
underwood, stood the native village of which they were 
in search. 

Just in front of this village lay a small but high and 
thickly wooded island, which, as it were, filled up the head 
of the bay, sheltering it completely from the ocean, and 
making the part of the sea which washed the shores in 
front of the houses resemble a deep and broad canal. This 
strip of water was wide and deep enough to permit of a 
vessel of the largest size passing through it; but to any one 


128 


GASCOYNE 


approaching the place for the first time there seemed to be 
no passage for any sort of craft larger than a native canoe. 
The island itself was high enough to conceal the Talisman 
completely from the natives until she was within half 
gunshot of the shore. 

Gascoyne still stood on the fore part of the ship as she 
neared this spot, which was so beset with reefs and rocks 
that her escape seemed miraculous. 

“ I think we are near enough for the work that we have 
to do,” suggested Montague in some anxiety. 

“ Just about it, Mr. Montague,” said Gascoyne, as he 
turned towards the stern and shouted — “ Port your 
helm.” 

“ Port it is,” answered the man at the wheel. 

“ Steady.” 

“ Back the topsails, Mr. Mulroy.” 

The sails were backed at once, and the ship became 
motionless with her broadside to the village. 

“ What are we to do now, Mr. Gascoyne,” inquired 
Montague, smiling in spite of himself at the strange posi¬ 
tion in which he found himself. 

“ Fire away at the village as hard as you can,” replied 
Gascoyne, returning the smile. 

“ What! do you really advise me to bombard a defence¬ 
less place in which, as far as I can see, there are none but 
women and children?” 

“ Even so!” returned the other, carelessly, “ at the same 
time I would advise you to give it them with blank cart¬ 
ridge.” 

“ And to what purpose such waste of powder?” inquired 
Montague. 

“ The furthering of the plans which I have been ap- 


THE SANDAL-WOOD TRADER 


129 


pointed to carry out,” answered Gascoyne somewhat 
stiffly, as he turned on his heel and walked away. 

The young captain reddened and bit his lip, as he gave 
the order to load the guns with blank cartridge, and made 
preparations to fire this harmless broadside on the village. 
The word to “ fire ” had barely crossed his lips when the 
rocks around seemed to tremble with the crash of a shot 
that came apparently from the other side of the island, for 
its smoke was visible, although the vessel that discharged 
it was concealed behind the point. The Talisman's broad¬ 
side followed so quickly, that the two discharges were 
blended in one. 


130 


GASCOYNE 


CHAPTER XIII 

DOINGS ON BOARD THE “ FOAM ” 

The nature of this part of our story requires that we 
should turn back, repeatedly, in-order to trace the move¬ 
ments of the different parties which co-operated with each 
other. 

While the warlike demonstrations we have described 
were being made by the British cruiser, the crew of the 
Foam were not idle. 

In consequence of the capture of Bumpus by the savages, 
Gascoyne’s message was, of course, not delivered to Man- 
ton, and the first mate of the sandal-wood trader would 
have known nothing about the fight that raged on the 
other side of the island on the Sunday, but for the three 
shots, fired by the first lieutenant of the Talisman , which 
decided the fate of the day. % 

Being curious to know-the cause of the firing, Manton 
climbed the mountains until he gained the dividing ridge — 
which, however, he did not succeed in doing till late in 
the afternoon, the way being rugged as well as long. Here 
he almost walked into the midst of a flying party of the 
beaten savages; but dropping suddenly behind a rock, he 
escaped their notice. The haste with which they ran, and 
the wounds visible on the persons of many of them, were 
sufficient to acquaint the mate of the Foam with the fact 
that a fight had taken place in which the savages had been 
beaten; and his knowledge of the state of affairs on the 


THE SANDAL-WOOD TRADER 


131 


island enabled him to jump at once to the correct conclu¬ 
sion that the Christian village had been attacked. 

A satanic smile played on the countenance of the mate as 
he watched the savages until they were out of sight; then, 
quitting his place of concealment, he hurried back to the 
schooner, which he reached some time after nightfall. 

Immediately on gaining the deck he gave orders to haul 
the chain of the anchor short, to shake out the sails, and 
to make other preparations to avail himself without delay 
of the light breeze off the land which his knowledge of the 
weather and the locality taught him to look for before 
morning. 

While his orders were being executed, a boat came along¬ 
side with that part of the crew which had been sent ashore 
by Gascoyne to escape the eye of the British commander. 
It was in charge of the second mate — a short, but thick-set 
and extremely powerful man, of the name of Scraggs — 
who walked up to his superior the moment he came on 
board, and, in a tone somewhat disrespectful, asked what 
was going to be done. 

“Don’t you see,” growled Manton; “we’re getting 
ready to sail.” 

“ Of course I see that,” retorted Scraggs, between whom 
and his superior officer there existed a feeling of jealousy 
as well as of mutual antipathy, for reasons which will be 
seen hereafter; “ but I should like to know where we are 
going, and why we are going anywhere without the cap¬ 
tain. I suppose I am entitled to ask that much.” 

“ It’s your business to obey orders,” said Manton, 
angrily. 

“ Not if they are in opposition to the captain’s orders,” 
replied Scraggs, firmly, but in a more respectful tone; for 


132 


GASCOYNE 


in proportion as he became more mutinous, he felt that he 
could afford to become more deferential. “ The captain’s 
last orders to you were to remain where you are, I heard 
him give them, and I do not feel it my duty to disobey him 
at your bidding. You’ll find, too, that the crew are of my 
way of thinking.” 

Manton’s face flushed crimson, and, for a moment, he 
felt inclined to seize a handspike and fell the refractory 
second mate therewith; but the looks of a few of the men 
who were standing by and had overheard the conversation, 
convinced him that a violent course of procedure would do 
him injury. Swallowing his passion, therefore, as he best 
could, he said — 

“ Come, Mr. Scraggs, I did not expect that you would 
set a mutinous example to the men; and if it were not that 
you do so out of respect for the supposed orders of the 
captain, I would put you in irons at once.” 

Scraggs smiled sarcastically at this threat, but made no 
reply, and the mate continued — 

11 The captain did indeed order me to remain where we 
are, but I have since discovered that the black dogs have 
attacked the Christian settlement, as it is called, and you 
know as well as I do, that Gascoyne would not let slip the 
chance to pitch into the undefended village of the niggers, 
and pay them off for the mischief they have done to us 
more than once. At any rate, I mean to go round and 
blow down their log huts with Long Tom; so you can go 
ashore if you don’t like the work.” 

Man ton knew well, when he made this allusion to mis¬ 
chief formerly done to the crew of the Foam , that he 
touched a rankling sore in the breast of Scraggs, who in a 
skirmish with the natives some time before had lost an 


THE SANDAL-WOOD TRADER 


133 


eye; and the idea of revenging himself on the defenceless 
women and children of his enemies was so congenial to 
the mind of the second mate, that his objections to act 
willingly under Manton’s orders were at once removed. 

“ Ha!” said he, commencing to pace to and fro on the 
quarter-deck with his superior officer, while the men made 
the necessary preparations for the intended assault, “ that 
alters the case, Mr. Manton. I don’t think, however, that 
Gascoyne would have taken advantage of the chance to 
give the brutes what they deserve, for I must say he does 
seem to be unaccountably chicken-hearted; perhaps it’s as 
well that he’s out of the way. Do you happen to know 
where he is or what he’s doing?” 

“Not I. No doubt he is playing some sly game with 
this British cruiser, and I dare say he may be lending a 
hand to the settlers, for he’s got some strange interests to 
look after there, you know ” (here both men laughed), 
“ and I shouldn’t wonder if he was beforehand with us in 
pitching into the niggers. He is always ready enough to 
fight in self-defence, though we can never get him screwed 
up to the assaulting point.” 

“ Ay, we saw something of the fighting from the hill 
tops, but as it is no business of ours, I brought the men 
down in case they might be wanted aboard.” 

“ Quite right, Scraggs. You’re a judicious fellow to 
send on a dangerous expedition. I’m not sure, however, 
that Gascoyne would thank you for leaving him to fight the 
savages alone.” Manton chuckled as he said this, and 
Scraggs grinned maliciously as he replied — 

“ Well, it can’t exactly be said that I’ve left him, seeing 
that I have not been with him since we parted aboard of 
this schooner, and as to his fightin’ the niggers alone,— 


134 


GASCOYNE 


hasn’t he got ever so many hundred Christian niggers to 
help him to lick the others?” 

“ True,” said Manton, while a smile of contempt curled 
his lip. “ But here comes the breeze, and the sun won’t 
be long behind it. All the better for the work we’ve got to 
do. Mind your helm there. Here, lads, take a pull at 
the topsail halyards; and some of you get the nightcap off 
Long Tom. I say, Mr. Scraggs, should we shew them the 
red, by way of comforting their hearts?” 

Scraggs shook his head dubiously. “You forget the 
cruiser. She has eyes aboard, and may chance to set them 
on that same red, in which case it’s likely she would shew 
us her teeth.” 

“ And what then?” demanded Manton, “ are you also 
growing chicken-hearted? Besides,” he added in a milder 
tone, “ the cruiser is quietly at anchor on the other side of 
the island, and there’s not a captain in the British navy 
who could take a pinnace, much less a ship, through the 
reefs at the north end of the island without a pilot.” 

“ Well,” returned Scraggs, carelessly, “do as you please. 
It’s all one to me.” 

While the two officers were conversing, the active crew 
of the Foam were busily engaged in carrying out the orders 
of Manton, and the graceful schooner glided swiftly along 
the coast before the same breeze which urged the Talisman 
to the north end of the island. The former, having few 
reefs to avoid, approached her destination much more 
rapidly than the latter, and there is no doubt that she would 
have arrived first on the scene of action had not the height 
and form of the cliffs prevented the wind from filling her 
sails on two or three occasions. 

Meanwhile, in obedience to Manton’s orders, a great and 


THE SANDAL-WOOD TRADER 


135 


very peculiar change was effected in the outward aspect of 
the Foam. To one unacquainted with the character of 
the schooner, the proceedings of her crew must have seemed 
unaccountable as well as surprising. The carpenter and 
his assistants were slung over the sides of the vessel, upon 
which they plied their screwdrivers for a considerable time 
with great energy, but, apparently, with very little result. 
In the course of a quarter of an hour, however, a long 
narrow plank was loosened, which, when stripped off, dis¬ 
covered a narrow line of bright scarlet running quite round 
the vessel, a little more than a foot above the water-line. 
This having been accomplished, they next proceeded to the 
figure-head, and, unscrewing the white lady who smiled 
there, fixed in her place a hideous griffin’s head, which, like 
the ribbon, was also bright scarlet. While these changes 
were being effected, others of the crew removed the boat 
that lay on the deck, bottom up, between the masts, and un¬ 
covered a long brass pivot-gun of the largest calibre, which 
shone in the saffron light of morning like a mass of bur¬ 
nished gold. This gun was kept scrupulously clean and 
neat in all its arrangements; the rammers, spongers, screws, 
and other apparatus belonging to it, were neatly arranged 
beside it, and four or five of its enormous iron shot were 
piled under its muzzle. The traversing gear connected 
with it was well greased, and, in short, everything about 
the gun gave proof of the care that was bestowed on it. 

But these were not the only alterations made in the 
mysterious schooner. Round both masts were piled a 
number of muskets, boarding-pikes, cutlasses, and pistols, 
all of which were perfectly clean and bright, and the men 
— fierce enough and warlike in their aspect at all times — 
had now rendered themselves doubly so, by putting on 


136 


GASCOYNE 


broad belts with pistols therein, and tucking up their sleeves 
to the shoulders, thereby displaying their brawny arms as if 
they had dirty work before them. This strange meta¬ 
morphosis was finally completed when Man ton, with his 
own hands, ran up to the peak of the mainsail a bright 
scarlet flag with the single word “ Avenger ” on it in 
large black letters. 

During one of those lulls in the breeze to which we have 
referred, and while the smooth ocean glowed in the mellow 
light that ushered in the day, the attention of those on 
board the Avenger (as we shall call the double-faced schooner 
when under red colours) was attracted to one of the more 
distant cliffs, on the summit of which human beings 
appeared to be moving. 

“ Hand me that glass,” said Manton to one of the men 
beside him. “ I shouldn’t wonder if the niggers were up 
to some mischief there. Ah! just so,” he exclaimed, 
adjusting the telescope a little more correctly, and again 
applying it to his eye. 11 They seem to be scuffling on the 
top of yonder precipice. Now there’s one fellow down; 
but it’s so far off that I can’t make out clearly what they’re 
about. I say, Mr. Scraggs, get the other glass and take a 
squint at them — you are farther sighted than I am.” 

“ You’re right; they are killin’ one another up yonder,” 
observed Scraggs, surveying the group on the cliffs with 
calm indifference. 

41 Here comes the breeze,” exclaimed Manton, with a 
look of satisfaction. “ Now, look alive, lads; we shall be 
close on the village in five minutes — it’s just round the 
point of this small island close ahead. Come, Mr. Scraggs, 
we’ve other business on hand just now than squinting at 
the scrimmages of these fellows.” 


THE SANDAL-WOOD TRADER 


137 


“ Hold on,” cried Scraggs, with a grin; “ I do believe 
they’re going to pitch a feller over that cliff. What a 
crack he’ll come down into the water with, to be sure. 
It’s to be hoped the poor man is dead, for his own sake, 
before he takes that flight. Hallo!” added Scraggs with 
an energetic shout and a look of surprise, “ I say, that’s 
one of our men; I know him by his striped flannel shirt. 
If he would only give up kicking for a second I’d make 

out his-humph! it’s all up with him now, poor fellow, 

whoever he is.” 

As he said the last words, the figure of a man was seen 
to shoot out from the cliff, and, descending with ever in¬ 
creasing rapidity, to strike the water with terrific violence, 
sending up a jet of white foam as it disappeared. 

“ Stand by to lower the gig,” shouted Manton. 

“ Ay, ay, sir,” was the hearty response of the men, as 
some of them sprang to obey. 

“ Lower away!” 

The boat struck the water, and its crew were on the 
thwarts in a moment. At the same time the point of the 
island was passed, and the native village opened up to 
view. 

“Load Long Tom — double shot!” roared Manton, 
whose ire was raised not so much at the idea of a fellow- 
creature having been so barbarously murdered, as at the 
notion of one of the crew of his schooner having been so 
treated by contemptible niggers. “ Away, lads, and pick 
up that man.” 

“ It’s of no use,” remonstrated Scraggs; “ he’s done for 
by this time.” 

“ I know it,” said Manton, with a fierce oath, “ bring 



138 


GASCOYNE 


him in, dead or alive; if the sharks leave an inch of him, 
bring it to me. I’ll make the black villains eat it raw.” 

This ferocious threat was interlarded with and followed 
by a series of terrible oaths which we think it inadvisable 
to repeat. 

“ Starboard!” he shouted to the man at the helm, as 
soon as the boat shot away on its mission of mercy. 

“ Starboard it is.” 

“ Steady!” 

While he gave these orders, Manton sighted the brass 
gun carefully, and, just as the schooner’s head came up to 
the wind, he applied the match. 

Instantly a cloud of smoke obscured the centre of the 
little vessel as if her powder magazine had blown up, and 
a deafening roar went ringing and reverberating from 
cliff to cliff as two of the great iron shot were sent groan¬ 
ing through the air and pitched right into the heart of the 
village. 

It was this tremendous shot from Long Tom, followed 
almost instantaneously by the entire broadside of the Talis¬ 
man, that saved the life of Alice,— possibly the lives of 
her young companions also,— that struck terror to the 
hearts of the savages, causing them to converge towards 
their defenceless homes from all directions, and that 
apprised Ole Thorwald and Henry Stuart that the assault 
on the village had commenced in earnest. 


THE SANDAL-WOOD TRADER 


139 


CHAPTER XIV 

GREATER MYSTERIES THAN EVER-A BOLD MOVE AND A 

CLEVER ESCAPE 

We return now to th e Talisman. 

The instant the broadside of the cruiser burst with such 
violence, and in such close proximity, on Manton’s ears, he 
felt that he had run into the very jaws of the lion; and 
that escape was almost impossible. The bold heart of the 
pirate quailed at the thought of his impending fate, but 
the fear caused by conscious guilt was momentary; his 
constitutional courage returned so violently as to render 
him reckless. 

It was too late to put about and avoid being seen, for, 
before the shot was fired, the schooner had already almost 
run into the narrow channel between the island and the 
shore. A few seconds later, she sailed gracefully into 
view of the amazed Montague, who at once recognised the 
pirate vessel from Gascoyne’s faithful description of her, 
and hurriedly gave orders to load with ball and grape, while 
a boat was lowered in order to slew the ship round more 
rapidly, so as to bring her broadside to bear on the schooner. 

To say that Gascoyne beheld all this unmoved would be 
to give a false impression of the man. He knew the ring 
of his great gun too well to require the schooner to come 
in sight in order to convince him that his vessel was near 
at hand. When, therefore, she appeared, and Montague 
turned to him with a hasty glance of suspicion and pointed 
to her, he had completely banished every trace of feeling 


140 


GASCOYNE 


from his countenance, and sat on the taffrail puffing his 
cigar with an air of calm satisfaction. Nodding to Mon¬ 
tague’s glance of inquiry, he said — 

“ Ay, that’s the pirate. I told you he was a bold fellow, 
but I did not think he was quite so bold as to attempt 
this /” 

To do Gascoyne justice, he told the plain truth here; 
for, having sent a peremptory order to his mate by John 
Bumpus, not to move from his anchorage on any account 
whatever, he was not a little surprised, as well as enraged, 
at what he supposed was Manton’s mutinous conduct. But, 
as we have said, his feelings were confined to his breast — 
they found no index in his grave face. 

Montague suspected, nevertheless, that his pilot was 
assuming a composure which he did not feel; for, from the 
manner of the meeting of the two vessels, he was persuaded 
that it was as little expected on the part of the pirates as 
of himself. It was with a feeling of curiosity, therefore, 
as to what reply he should receive, that he put the question 
— “ What would Mr. Gascoyne advise me to do now? ” 

“ Blow the villains out of the water,” was the quick 
answer; “ I would have done so before now, had I been 
you.” 

“ Perhaps you might, but not much sooner,” retorted 
the other, pointing to the guns which were ready loaded, 
while the men stood at their stations, matches in hand, 
only waiting for the broadside to be brought to bear on the 
little vessel, when an iron shower would be sent against her 
which must, at such short range, have infallibly sent her 
to the bottom. 

The mate of the pirate schooner was quite alive to his 
danger, and had taken the only means in his power to 


THE SANDAL-WOOD TRADER 


141 


prevent it. Close to where his vessel lay, a large rock rose 
between the shore of the large island and the islet in the 
bay which has been described as separating the two vessels 
from each other. Owing to the formation of the coast at 
this place, a powerful stream ran between the rock and this 
islet at low tide. It happened to be flowing out at that 
time like a mill-race. Manton saw that the schooner was 
being sucked into this stream. In other circumstances, he 
would have endeavoured to avoid the danger; for the 
channel was barely wide enough to allow even a small craft 
to pass between the rocks; but now he resolved to risk it. 

He knew that any attempt to put the schooner about, 
would only hasten the efforts of the cruiser to bring her 
broadside to bear on him. He also knew that, in the 
course of a few seconds, he would be carried through the 
stream into the shelter of the rocky point. He therefore 
ordered the men to lie down on the deck; while, in a care¬ 
less manner, he slewed the big brass gun round, so as to 
point it at the man-of-war. 

Gascoyne at once understood the intended manoeuvre of 
his mate; and, in spite of himself, a gleam of triumph shot 
from his eyes. Montague himself suspected that his prize 
was not altogether so sure as he had deemed it; and he 
urged the men in the boat to put forth their utmost efforts. 
The Talisman was almost slewed into position, when the 
pirate schooner was observed to move rapidly through the 
water, stern foremost, in the direction of the point. At 
first Montague could scarcely credit his eyes; but when he 
saw the end of the main-boom pass behind the point, he 
became painfully alive to the fact that the whole vessel 
would certainly follow in the course of a few seconds. 
Although the most of his guns were still not sufficiently 


142 


GASCOYNE 


well pointed, he gave the order to fire them in succession. 
The entire broadside burst in this manner from the side of 
the Talisman , with a prolonged and mighty crash or roar, 
and tore up the waters of the narrow channel. 

Most of the iron storm passed close by the head of the 
pirate. However, only one ball took effect; it touched the 
end of the bowsprit, and sent the jib-boom into the air in 
splinters. Manton applied the match to the brass gun 
almost at the same moment, and the heavy ringing roar of 
her explosion seemed like a prolonged echo of the broad¬ 
side. The gun was well aimed; but the schooner had 
already passed so far behind the point, that the ball struck 
a projecting part of the cliff, dashed it into atoms, and, 
glancing upwards, passed through the cap of the Talisman's 
mizzen-mast, and brought the lower yard, with all its gear, 
rattling down on the quarter-deck. When the smoke 
cleared away, the Avenger had vanished from the scene. 

To put the ship about, and follow the pirate schooner, 
was the first impulse of Montague; but, on second thoughts, 
he felt that the risk of getting on the rocks' in the narrow 
channel was too great to be lightly run. He therefore 
gave orders to warp the ship about, and steer round the 
islet, on the other side of which he fully expected to find 
the pirate. But time was lost in attempting to do this, in 
consequence of the wreck of the mizzen-mast having fouled 
the rudder. When the Talisman at last got under way, 
and rounded the outside point of the islet, no vessel of any 
kind was to be seen. 

Amazed beyond measure, and deeply chagrined, the un¬ 
fortunate captain of the man-of-war turned to Gascoyne, 
who still sat quietly on the taffrail smoking his cigar — 

11 Does this pirate schooner sport wings as well as sails?” 


THE SANDAL-WOOD TRADER 


143 


said he; “ for unless she does, and has flown over the 
mountains, I cannot see how she could disappear in so 
short a space of time.” 

“ I told you the pirate was a bold man; and now he has 
proved himself a clever fellow. Whether he sports wings 
or no is best known to himself. Perhaps he can dive. If 
so, we have only to watch until he comes to the surface, 
and shoot him leisurely.” 

“ Well, he is off; there is no doubt of that,” returned 
Montague. 11 And now, Mr. Gascoyne, since it is vain for 
me to chase a vessel possessed of such mysterious qualities, 
you will not object, I daresay, to guide my ship to the 
bay where your own little schooner lies. I have a fancy to 
anchor there.” 

“ By all means,” said Gascoyne, coolly. “It will afford 
me much pleasure to do as you wish, and to have you 
alongside of my little craft.” 

Montague was surprised at the perfect coolness with 
which the other received this proposal. He was persuaded 
that there must be some mysterious connexion between the 
pirate schooner and the sandal-wood trader, although his 
ideas on this point were somewhat undefined and confused; 
and he had expected that Gascoyne would have shown 
some symptoms of perplexity, on being thus ordered to 
conduct the Talisman to a spot where he suspected no 
schooner would be found; or, if found, would appear under 
such a changed aspect, as to warrant his seizing it on sus¬ 
picion. As Gascoyne, however, shewed perfect willing¬ 
ness to obey the order, he turned away and left his strange 
pilot to conduct the ship through the reefs, having pre¬ 
viously given him to understand that the touching of a 


144 


GASCOYNE 


rock, and the termination of his (Gascoyne's) life, would 
certainly be simultaneous events. 

Meanwhile the Avenger, alias the Foam, had steered 
direct for the shore, into which she apparently ran and 
disappeared like a phantom-ship. The coast of this part 
of the island, where the events we are narrating occurred, 
was peculiarly formed. There were several narrow inlets 
in the high cliffs which were exceedingly deep, but barely 
wide enough to admit of the passage of a large boat, or a 
small vessel. Many of these inlets or creeks, which in 
some respects resembled the narrow fjords of Norway, 
though on a miniature scale, were so thickly fringed with 
trees, and the luxuriant undergrowth peculiar to southern 
climes, that their existence could not be detected from the 
sea. Indeed, even after the entrance to any one of them 
was discovered, no one would have imagined it to extend 
so far inland. 

Two of those deep narrow inlets, opening from opposite 
sides of the cape which lay close to the islet above referred 
to, had approached so close to each other at their upper 
extremities, that they had at last met, in consequence of 
the sea undermining and throwing down the cliff that 
separated them. Thus the cape was in reality an island; 
and the two united inlets formed a narrow strait, through 
which the Avenger passed to her former anchorage, by 
means of four pair of powerful sweeps or oars. This secret 
passage was well known to the pirates; and it was with a 
lurking feeling that it might some day prove of use to 
him, that Gascoyne invariably anchored near to it when 
he visited the island as a sandal-wood trader. 

During the transit, the carpenters of the schooner were 
not idle. The red streak and flag, and griffin’s head, were 


THE SANDAL-WOOD TRADER 


145 


removed; the big gun was covered with the long boat, and 
the vessel which entered the one end of the channel as 
the warlike Avenger, issued from the other side as the 
peaceful Foam; and, rowing to her former anchorage, 
dropped anchor. The shattered jib-boom had been re¬ 
placed by a spare one, and part of the crew were stowed 
away under the cargo in an empty space of the hold re¬ 
served for this special purpose, and for concealing arms. A 
few of them were also landed, not far from the cliff over 
which poor Bumpus had been thrown, with orders to re¬ 
main concealed, and be ready to embark at a moment’s 
notice. 

Soon after the schooner anchored, the boat which had 
been sent in search of the body of our unfortunate seaman 
returned, having failed to discover the object for which it 
was sent out. 

The breeze had by this time died away almost entirely, 
so that three hours elapsed before the Talisman rounded 
the point, stood into the bay, and dropped anchor at a dis¬ 
tance of about two miles from the suspected schooner. 


146 


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CHAPTER XV 

REMARKABLE DOINGS OF POOPY — EXTRAORDINARY CASE 
OF RESUSCITATION 

It is time now to return to our unfortunate friends, Corrie, 
Alice, and Poopy, who have been left long enough exposed 
on the summit of the cliffs, from which they had expected 
to be tossed by the savages, when the guns of the Talisman 
so opportunely saved them. 

The reader will observe, that these incidents, which 
have taken so long to narrate, were enacted in a very brief 
space of time. Only a few hours elapsed between the 
firing of the broadside already referred to, and the anchor¬ 
ing of the Talisman in the bay, where the Foam had cast 
anchor some time before her; yet in this short space of 
time many things occurred on the island which are worthy 
of particular notice. 

As we have already remarked, Corrie and his two com¬ 
panions in misfortune had been bound; and, in this condi¬ 
tion, were left by the savages to their fate. Their respec¬ 
tive positions were by no means enviable. Poor Alice 
lay near the edge of the cliff, with her wrists and ankles so 
securely tied that no effort of which she was capable could 
set her free. Poopy lay about ten yards farther up the 
cliff, flat on her sable back, with her hands tied behind 
her, and her ankles also secured; so that she could by no 
means attain to a sitting position, although she made vio¬ 
lent and extraordinary efforts to do so. We say extra- 


THE SANDAL-WOOD TRADER 


147 


ordinary, because Poopy, being ingenious, hit upon many 
devices of an unheard of nature to accomplish her object. 
Among others, she attempted to turn heels over head, 
hoping thus to get upon her knees; and there is no doubt 
whatever that she would have succeeded in this, had not 
the formation of the ground been exceedingly unfavourable 
for such a manoeuvre. 

Corrie had shewn such an amount of desperate vin¬ 
dictiveness, in the way of kicking, hitting, biting, scratch¬ 
ing, and pinching, when the savages were securing him, 
that they gave him five or six extra coils of the rope of 
cocoa-nut fibre with which they bound him. Consequently 
he could not move any of his limbs, and he now lay on his 
side between Alice and Poopy, gazing with much earnest¬ 
ness and no little astonishment at the peculiar contortions 
of the latter. 

“ You’ll never manage it, Poopy,” he remarked in a 
sad tone of voice, ,on beholding the poor girl balanced on 
the small of her back, preparatory to making a spring that 
might have reminded one of the leaps of a trout when 
thrown from its native element upon the bank of a river. 
“ And you’ll break your neck if you go on like that,” he 
added, on observing that, having failed in these attempts, 
she recurred to the heels-over-head process — but all in 
vain. 

“Oh, me!” sighed Poopy, as she fell back in a fit of 
exhaustion. “ It’s be all hup wid us.” 

“ Don’t say that, you goose,” whispered Corrie, “ you’ll 
frighten Alice, you will.” 

“ Will me?” whispered Poopy, in a tone of self-reproach; 
then in a loud voice, “ Oh, no! it not all hup yet, Miss 
Alice. See, me go at it agin.” 


148 


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And 11 go at it ” she did in a way that actually alarmed 
her companions. At any other time Corrie would have 
exploded with laughter, but the poor boy was thoroughly 
overwhelmed by the suddenness and the extent of his 
misfortune. The image of Bumpus, disappearing head¬ 
long over that terrible cliff, had filled his heart with a 
feeling of horror which nothing could allay, and grave 
thoughts at the desperate case of poor little Alice (for he 
neither thought of nor cared for Poopy or himself) sank 
like a weight of lead upon his spirit. 

“ Don’t try it any more, dear Poopy,” said Alice, en- 
treatingly, “ you’ll only hurt yourself and tear your frock. 
I feel sure that some one will be sent to deliver us. Don’t 
you , Corrie?” 

The tone in which this question was put shewed that 
the poor child did not feel quite so certain of the arrival of 
succour as her words implied. Corrie perceived this at 
once, and, with the heroism of a true lover, he crushed 
back the feelings of anxiety and alarm which were creep¬ 
ing over his own stout little heart in spite of his brave 
words, and gave utterance to encouraging expressions and 
even to slightly jovial sentiments, which tended very much 
to comfort Alice, and Poopy too. 

“ Sure?” he exclaimed, rolling on his other side to 
obtain a view of the child (for, owing to his position and 
his fettered condition he had to turn on his right side when 
he wished to look at Poopy, and on his left when he ad¬ 
dressed himself to Alice). “ Sure? why, of course I’m 
sure. D’ye think your father would leave you lying out 
in the cold all night?” 

“ No, that I am certain he would not,” cried Alice, 
enthusiastically; “ but, then, he does not know we are 


THE SANDAL-WOOD TRADER 


149 


here, and will never think of looking for us in such an 
unlikely place.” 

“ Humph! that only shews your ignorance,” said Corrie. 

” Well, I dare say I am very ignorant,” replied Alice, 
meekly. 

“ No, no! I don’t mean that ,” cried Corrie, with a feel¬ 
ing of self-reproach. “ I don’t mean to say that you’re 
ignorant in a general way, you know, but only about what 
men are likely to do, d’ye see, when they’re hard put to 
it, you understand. Our feelings are so different from 
yours, you know, and — and-” 

Here Corrie broke down, and in order to change the 
subject abruptly he rolled round towards Poopy, and cried 
with considerable asperity — 

11 What on earth d’ye mean, Kickup, by wriggling about 
in that fashion? If you don’t stop it you’ll fetch way down 
the hill, and go slap over the precipice, carrying Alice and 
me along with you. Give it up now, d’ye hear?” 

“ No, me wont,” cried Poopy, with great passion, while 
tears sprang from her large eyes, and coursed over her 
sable cheeks. “ Me will bu’st dem ropes.” 

“ More likely to do that to yourself if you go on like 
that,” returned Corrie. “ But I say, Alice, cheer up ” 
(here he rolled round on his other side), “ I’ve been pon¬ 
dering a plan all this time to set us free, and now I’m going 
to try it. The only bother about it is that these rascally 
savages have dropt me beside a pool of half soft mud that 
I can’t help sticking my head into if I try to move.” 

“ Oh! then, don’t move, dear Corrie,” said Alice, in an 
imploring tone of voice; “ we can lie here quite comfort¬ 
ably till papa comes.” 

“Ah! yes,” said Corrie, “that reminds me that I was 



150 


GASCOYNE 


saying we men feel and act so different from you women. 
Now it strikes me that your father will go to all the most 
unlikely parts of the island first. But as it may be a long 
time before he finds us” — (he sighed deeply here, not 
feeling much confidence in the success of the missionary’s 
search) — “I shall tell you my plan, and then try to carry 
it out.” (Here he sighed again, more deeply than before, 
not feeling by any means confident of the success of his 
own efforts.) 

“ And what is your plan?” inquired Alice, eagerly, for 
the child had unbounded belief in Corrie’s ability to do 
almost anything he chose to attempt, and Corrie knew this, 
and was proud as a peacock in consequence. 

“ I’ll get up on my knees,” said he, “ and then, once on 
them, I can easily rise to my feet and hop to you, and free 
you.” 

On this explanation of his elaborate and difficult plan, 
Alice made no observation for some time, because even to 
her faculties (which were obtuse enough on mechanical 
matters), it was abundantly evident that, the boy’s hands 
being tied firmly behind his back, he could neither cut 
the ropes that bound her, nor untie them. 

“ What d’ye think, Alice?” 

“ I fear it won’t do, your hands are tied, Corrie.” 

“ Oh! that’s nothing. The only difficulty is how to get 
on my knees.” 

“ Surely that cannot be very difficult, when you talk of 
getting on your feet.” 

“ Ha! that shews you’re a-I mean, d’ye see, that 

the difficulty lies here, my elbows are lashed so fast to 
my sides that I can’t use them to prop me up, but if Poopy 
will roll down the hill to my side, and shove her pretty 



THE SANDAL-WOOD TRADER 


151 


shoulder under my back when I raise it, perhaps I may 
succeed in getting up. What say you, Kickup?” 

“ Hee! hee!” laughed the girl, “ dat’s fuss rate. Look 
out!” 

Poopy, although sluggish by nature, was rather abrupt 
and violent in her impulses at times. Without further 
warning than the above brief exclamation, she rolled her¬ 
self towards Corrie with such good-will that she went quite 
over him, and would certainly have passed onward to 
where Alice lay — perhaps over the cliff altogether — had 
not the boy caught her sleeve with his teeth, and held her 
fast. 

The plan was eminently successful. By a series of jerks 
on the part of Corrie, and proppings on the part of Poopy, 
the former was enabled to attain to a kneeling position, 
not, however, without a few failures, in one of which he 
fell forward on his face, and left a deep impression of his 
fat little nose in the mud. 

Having risen to his feet, Corrie at once hopped towards 
Alice, after the fashion of those country wights who in¬ 
dulge in sack races, and, going down on his knees beside 
her, began diligently to gnaw the rope that bound her 
with his teeth. This was by no means an easy or a quick 
process. He gnawed and bit at it long before the tough 
rope gave way. At length Alice was freed, and she imme¬ 
diately set to work to undo the fastenings of the other two, 
but her delicate fingers were not well suited to such rough 
work, and a considerable time elapsed before the three 
were finally at large. 

The instant they were so, Corrie said, “ Now we must 
go down to the foot of the cliff, and look for poor Bumpus. 
Oh! dear me, I doubt he is killed.” 


152 


GASCOYNE 


The look of horror which all three cast over the stupen¬ 
dous precipice shewed that they had little hope of ever 
again seeing their rugged friend alive. But, without 
wasting time in idle remarks, they at once hastened to the 
foot of the cliff by the shortest route they could find. 
Here, after a short time, they discovered the object of their 
solicitude lying, apparently dead, on his back among the 
rocks. 

When Bumpus struck the water, after being tossed 
over the cliff, his head was fortunately downward, and his 
skull, being the thickest and hardest bone in his body, had 
withstood the terrible shock to which it had been sub¬ 
jected without damage, though the brain within was, for a 
time, incapacitated from doing duty. When John rose 
again to the surface, after a descent into unfathomable 
water, he floated there in a state of insensibility. Fortu¬ 
nately the wind and tide combined to wash him to the 
shore, where a higher swell than usual launched him among 
the coral rocks, and left him there, with only his feet in the 
water. 

“Oh! here he is, hurrah!” shouted Corrie, on catching 
sight of the prostrate form of the seaman. But the boy’s 
manner changed the instant he observed the colour of the 
man’s face, from which all the blood had been driven, 
leaving it like a piece of brown leather. 

41 He’s dead,” said Alice, wringing her hands in despair. 

44 P’rhaps not,” suggested Poopy, with a look of deep 
wisdom, as she gazed on the upturned face. 

44 Anyhow, we must haul him out of the water,” said 
Corrie, whose chest heaved with the effort he made to 
repress his tears. 

Catching up one of Bumpus’s huge hands, the boy or- 



he’s DEAD,” SAID ALICE 


Page 152 







THE SANDAL-WOOD TRADER 


153 


dered Alice to grasp the other. Poopy, without waiting 
for orders, seized hold of the hair of his head, and all three 
began to haul with might and main. But they might as 
well have tried to pull a line-of-battle ship up on the shore. 
The man’s bulky form was immovable. Seeing this, they 
changed their plan, and, all three grasping his legs, slewed 
him partially round, and thus drew his feet out of the 
water. 

11 Now, we must warm him,” said Corrie, eagerly, for, 
the first shock of the discovery of the supposed dead body 
of his friend being over, the sanguine boy began to enter¬ 
tain hopes of resuscitating him. “ I’ve heard that the 
best thing for drowned people is to warm them; so, Alice, 
do you take one hand and arm, Poopy will take the other, 
and I will take his feet, and we’ll rub away till we bring 
him to — for we must, we shall bring him round.” 

Corrie said this with a fierce look and a hysterical sob. 
Without more words he drew out his clasp-knife, and, 
ripping up the cuffs of the man’s coat, laid bare his mus¬ 
cular arm. Meanwhile Alice untied his neckcloth, and 
Poopy tore open his Guernsey frock and exposed his broad 
brown chest. 

“ We must warm that at once,” said Corrie, beginning 
to take off his jacket, which he meant to spread over the 
seaman’s breast. 

“ Stay, my petticoat is warmer,” cried Alice, hastily 
divesting herself of a flannel garment of bright scarlet, the 
brilliant beauty of which had long been the admiration of 
the entire population of Sandy Cove. The child spread it 
over the seaman’s chest, and tucked it carefully down at 
his sides, between his body and the wet garments. Then 
the three sat down beside him, and, each seizing a limb, 


154 


GASCOYNE 


began to rub and chafe with a degree of energy that noth¬ 
ing could resist! At any rate it put life into John Bumpus, 
for that hardy mariner gradually began to exhibit signs of 
returning vitality. 

“ There he comes,” cried Corrie, eagerly. 

“ Eh!” exclaimed Poopy, in alarm. 

“ Who? where?” inquired Alice, who thought that the 
boy referred to some one who had unexpectedly appeared 
on the scene. 

“ I saw him wink with his left eye — look!” 

All three suspended their labour of love, and, stretching 
forward their heads, gazed with breathless anxiety at the 
clay-coloured face of Jo. 

“ I must have been mistaken,” said Corrie, shaking his 
head. ^ 

“ Go at him agin,” cried Poopy, recommencing her work 
on the right arm with so much energy that it seemed mar¬ 
vellous how she escaped skinning that limb from fingers to 
shoulder. 

Poor Alice did her best, but her soft little hands had not 
much effect on the huge mass of brown flesh they manipu¬ 
lated. 

“ There he comes again!” shouted Corrie. 

Once more there was an abrupt pause in the process, 
and the three heads were bent eagerly forward watching 
for symptoms of returning life. Corrie was right. The 
seaman’s left ey§ quivered for a moment, causing the hearts 
of the three children to beat high with hope. Presently 
the other eye also quivered; then the broad chest rose 
almost imperceptibly, and a faint sigh came feebly and 
broken from the cold blue lips. 

To say that the three children were delighted at this 


THE SANDAL-WOOD TRADER 


155 


would be to give but a feeble idea of the state of their feel¬ 
ings. Corrie had, even in the short time yet afforded him 
of knowing Bumpus, entertained for him feelings of the 
deepest admiration and love. Alice and Poopy, out of 
sheer sympathy, had fallen in love with him too, at first 
sight, so that his horrible death (as they had supposed), 
coupled with his unexpected restoration and revival through 
their unaided exertions, drew them still closer to him, and 
created within them a sort of feeling that he must, in com¬ 
mon reason and justice, regard himself as their special prop¬ 
erty in all future time. When, therefore, they saw him 
wink and heard him sigh, the gush of emotion that filled 
their respective bosoms was quite overpowering. Corrie 
gasped in his effort not to break down; Alice wept with 
silent joy as she continued to chafe the man’s limbs; and 
Poopy went off into a violent fit of hysterical laughter, in 
which her “ hee, hees!” resounded with terrible shrillness 
among the surrounding cliffs. 

“ Now, then, let’s to work again with a will,” said Corrie; 
“ what d’ye say to try punching him?” 

This question he put gravely, and with the uncertain air 
of a man who feels that he is treading on new and possibly 
dangerous ground. 

“ What is punching?” inquired Alice. 

“ Why, that” replied the boy, giving a practical and by 
no means gentle illustration on his own fat thigh. 

“ Wouldn’t it hurt him?” said Alice, dubiously. 

“ Hurt him! hurt the Grampus!” cried Corrie, with a 
look of surprise, 11 you might as well talk of hurting a 
hippopotamus. Come, I’ll try.” 

Accordingly, Corrie tried. He began to bake the sea¬ 
man, as it were, with his fists. As the process went on he 


156 


GASCOYNE 


warmed to the work, and did it so energetically, in his 
mingled anxiety and hope, that it assumed the character 
of hitting rather than punching — to the dismay of Alice, 
who thought it impossible that any human being could 
stand such dreadful treatment. 

Whether it was to this process, or to the action of nature, 
or to the combined efforts of nature and his friends, that 
Bumpus owed his recovery, we cannot pretend to say; but 
certain it is that, on Corrie making a severer dab than 
usual into the pit of the seaman’s stomach, he gave a gasp 
and a sneeze, the latter of which almost overturned Poopy, 
who chanced to be gazing wildly into his countenance at 
the moment. At the same time he involuntarily threw up 
his right arm, and fetched Corrie such a tremendous back¬ 
hander on the chest that our young hero was laid flat on 
his back — half stunned by the violence of his fall, yet 
shouting with delight that his rugged friend still lived to 
strike another blow. 

Having achieved this easy though unintentional victory, 
Bumpus sighed again, shook his legs in the air, and sat up, 
gazing before him with a bewildered air, and gasping from 
time to time in a quiet way. 

“ Wot’s to do?” were the first words with which the 
restored seaman greeted his friends. 

“ Hurrah!” screamed Corrie, his visage blazing with 
delight, as he danced in front of him. 

“ Werry good,” said Bumpus, whose intellects were not 
yet thoroughly restored, “ try it again.” 

“Oh! how cold your cheeks are,” said Alice, placing 
her hands on them, and chafing them gently; then, per¬ 
ceiving that she did not communicate much warmth in that 
way, she placed her own fair soft cheek against that of the 


THE SANDAL-WOOD TRADER 


157 


sailor. Suddenly throwing both arms round his neck, she 
hugged him, and burst into tears. 

Bumpus was somewhat taken aback by this unexpected 
explosion, but, being an affectionate man as well as a 
rugged one, he had no objection whatever to the peculiar 
treatment. He allowed the child to sob on his neck as 
long as she chose, while Corrie stood by with his hands in 
his pockets, sailor-fashion, and looked on admiringly. As 
for Poopy, she sat down on a rock a short way off, and 
began to smile and talk to herself in a manner so utterly 
idiotical that an ignorant observer would certainly have 
judged her to be insane. 

They were thus agreeably employed when an event 
occurred which changed the current of their thoughts, and 
led to consequences of a somewhat serious nature. This 
event, however, was in itself insignificant. It was nothing 
more than the sudden appearance of a wild-pig among the 
bushes close at hand. 


158 


GASCOYNE 


CHAPTER XVI 

A WILD CHASE-HOPE, DISAPPOINTMENT AND DESPAIR- 

THE SANDAL-WOOD TRADER OUTWITS THE MAN-OF-WAR 

When the wild-pig, referred to in the last chapter, was 
first observed, it was standing on the margin of a thicket, 
from which it had just issued, gazing, with the profoundly 
philosophical aspect peculiar to that animal, at our four 
friends, and seeming to entertain doubts as to the propriety 
of beating an immediate retreat. 

Before it had made up its mind on this point, Corrie’s 
eye alighted on it. 

“ Hist!” exclaimed he, with a gesture of caution to his 
companions. “ Look there! we’ve had nothing to eat for 
an awful time; nothing since breakfast on Sunday morning. 
I feel as if my interior had been amputated. Oh! what a 
jolly roast that fellow would make if we could only kill 
him.” 

“ Wot’s in the pistol?” inquired Bumpus, pointing to 
the weapon which Corrie had stuck ostentatiously into his 
belt. 

“ Nothin’,” answered the boy. “ I fired the last charge 
I had into the face of a savage.” 

“ Fling it at him,” suggested Bumpus, getting cautiously 
up. “ Here, hand it to me. I’ve seed a heavy horse-pistol 
like that do great execution when well aimed by a stout 

„ tt 

arm. 

The pig seemed to have an intuitive perception that 
danger was approaching, for it turned abruptly round just 


THE SANDAL-WOOD TRADER 


159 


as the missile left the seaman’s hand, and received the butt 
with full force close to the root of its tail. 

A pig’s tendency to shriek on the receipt of the slightest 
injury is well known. It is therefore not to be wondered 
at, that this pig went off into the bushes under cover of a 
series of yells so terrific that they might have been heard 
for miles round. 

“ I’ll after him,” cried Bumpus, catching up a large 
stone, and leaping forward a few paces almost as actively 
as if nothing had happened to him. 

“ Hurrah!” shouted Corrie, “ I’ll go too.” 

“ Hold on,” cried Bumpus, stopping suddenly. 

14 Why?” inquired the boy. 

111 Cause you must stop an’ take care of the gals. It 
won’t do to leave ’em alone again, you know, Corrie.” 

This remark was accompanied with an exceedingly huge 
wink full of deep meaning, which Corrie found it conven¬ 
ient not to notice, as he observed, gravely — 

11 Ah! true. One of us must remain with ’em, poor 
helpless things — so — so you had better go after the 
squeaker.” 

44 All right,” said Bumpus, with a broad grin — 44 Hallo! 
why, here’s a spear that must ha’ bin dropt by one o’ them 
savages. That’s a piece o’ good luck anyhow, as the man 
said when he fund the fi’ pun’ note. Now, then, keep an 
eye on them gals, lad, and I’ll be back as soon as ever I 
can; though I does feel rather stiffish. My old timbers aint 
used to such deep divin’, d’ye see.” 

Bumpus entered the thicket as he spoke, and Corrie 
returned to console the girls, with the feeling and the air 
of a man whose bosom is filled with a stern resolve to die, 
if need be, in the discharge of an important duty. 


160 


GASCOYNE 


Now, the yell of this particular pig reached other ears 
besides those of the party whose doings we have attempted 
to describe. It rang in those of the pirates, who had been 
sent ashore to hide, like the scream of a steam-whistle, in 
consequence of their being close at hand, and it sounded 
like a faint cry in those of Henry Stuart and the mission¬ 
ary, who, with their party, were a long way off, slowly 
tracing the footsteps of the lost Alice, to which they had 
been guided by the keen scent of that animated scrap of 
door-mat, Toozle. The effect on both parties was powerful, 
but not similar. The pirates, supposing that a band of 
savages were near them, lay close and did not venture 
forth until a prolonged silence and strong curiosity tempted 
them to creep, with slow movements and extreme caution, 
towards the place whence the sounds had proceeded. 

Mr. Mason and Henry, on the other hand, stopt and 
listened with intense earnestness, expecting, yet fearing, a 
recurrence of the cry, and then sprang forward with their 
party, under the belief that they had heard the voice of 
Alice calling for help. 

Meanwhile, Bumpus toiled up the slopes of the moun¬ 
tain, keeping the pig well in view, for that animal having 
been somewhat injured by the blow from the pistol, could 
not travel at its ordinary speed. Indeed, Jo would have 
speedily overtaken it, but for the shaky condition of his 
own body after such a long fast and such a series of vio¬ 
lent shocks, as well mental as physical. 

Having gained the summit of a hill, the pig, much ex¬ 
hausted, sat down on its hams, and gazed pensively at 
the ground. Bumpus took advantage of the fact, and 
also sat down on a stone to rest. 

“ Wot a brute it is,” said he to himself. 


THE SANDAL-WOOD TRADER 


161 


Presently, he rose and made as if he had abandoned the 
chase, and were about to return the way he had come; but, 
when he had effectually concealed himself from the view 
of the pig, he made a wide detour, and, coming out sud¬ 
denly at a spot higher up the mountain, charged down 
upon the unsuspecting animal with a yell that would have 
done credit to itself. 

The pig echoed the yell, and rushed down the hill towards 
the cliffs, closely followed by the hardy seaman, who, in 
the ardour of the chase, forgot or ignored his aches and 
pains, and ran like a greyhound, his hair streaming in the 
wind, his eyes blazing with excitement, and the spear 
ready poised for a fatal dart. Altogether, he was so wild 
and strong in appearance, and so fuiious in his onset, that 
it was impossible to believe he had been half dead little 
more than an hour before, but then, as we have before 
remarked, Bumpuo was hard to kill! 

For nearly half an hour did the hungry seaman keep up 
the chase — neither gaining nor losing distance, while the 
affrighted pig, having its attention fixed entirely on its 
pursuer, scrambled and plunged forward over every im¬ 
aginable variety of ground, receiving one or two severe 
falls in consequence. Bumpuo, being warned by its fate, 
escaped them. At last the two dashed into a gorge and 
out at the other end, scrambled through a thicket, plunged 
down a hill, and doubled a high rock, on the other side of 
which they were met in the teeth by Henry Stuart at the 
head of his band. 

The pig attempted to double. Failing to do so, it lost 
its footing and fell flat on its side. Jo Bumpus threw his 
spear with violent energy deep into the earth about two 
feet beyond it, tripped on a stump and fell headlong on 


162 


GASCOYNE 


the top of the pig, squeezing the life out of its body with 
the weight of his ponderous frame, and receiving its dying 
yell into his very bosom. 

“ Hilloa! my stalwart chip of old Neptune,” cried Henry, 
laughing, “ you’ve bagged him this time effectually. Hast 
seen any of the niggers, or did you mistake this poor pig 
for one?” 

v Ay, truly, I have seen them, and given a few of ’em 
marks that will keep ’em in remembrance of me. As for 
this pig,” said Jo, throwing the carcase over his shoulder, 
“ I want a bit of summat to eat — that’s the fact; an’ the 
poor children will be-” 

“ Children,” cried Mr. Mason, eagerly, “ what do you 
mean, my man; have you seen any?” 

“ In course I has, or I wouldn’t speak of ’em,” returned 
Jo, who did not at first recognise the missionary, and no 
wonder, for Mr. Mason’s clothes were torn and soiled, and 
his face was bruised, bloodstained, and haggard. 

“ Tell me, friend, I entreat you,” said the pastor, ear¬ 
nestly, laying his hand on Jo’s arm, “ have you seen my 
child?” 

“ Wot! are you the father o’ the little gal? Why, I’ve 
seed her only half an hour since. But hold on, lads, come 
arter me an I’ll steer you to where she is at this moment.” 

“ Thanks be to God,” said Mr. Mason, with a deep sigh 
of relief. “ Lead on, my man, and, go quickly.” 

Bumpus at once led the way to the foot of the cliffs, and 
went over the ground at a pace that satisfied even the im¬ 
patience of the bereaved father. 

While this was occurring on the mountain slopes, the 
pirates at the foot of the cliffs had discovered the three 
children, and, finding that no one else was near, had seized 



THE SANDAL-WOOD TRADER 


163 


them and carried them off to a cave near to which their 
boat lay on the rocks. They hoped to have obtained some 
information from them as to what was going on at the 
other side of the island, but, while engaged in a fruitless 
attempt to screw something out of Corrie, who was pecu¬ 
liarly refractory, they were interrupted, first by the yells 
of Bumpus and his pig, and afterwards by the sudden 
appearance of Henry and his party on the edge of a cliff 
a short way above the spot where they were assembled. 
On seeing these, the pirates started to their feet and drew 
their cutlasses, while Henry uttered a shout and ran down 
the rocks like a deer. 

“ Shall we have a stand-up fight with ’em, Bill?” said 
one of the pirates. 

“ Not if I can help it — there’s four to one,” replied the 
other. 

“To the boat,” cried several of the men, leading the 
way, “ and let’s take the brats with us.” 

As Henry’s party came pouring down the hill, the more 
combatively disposed of the pirates saw at a glance that it 
would be in vain to attempt a stand, they therefore dis¬ 
charged a scattering volley from their pistols (happily 
without effect), and, springing into their boat, pushed off 
from the shore, taking the children along with them. 

Mr. Mason was the first to gain the beach. He had hit 
upon a shorter path by which to descend, and rushing 
forward, plunged into the sea. Poor little Alice, who at 
once recognised her father, stretched out her arms towards 
him, and would certainly have leaped into the sea had she 
not been forcibly detained by one of the pirates, whose 
special duty it was to hold her with one hand, while he 


164 GASCOYNE 

restrained the violent demonstrations of Come with the 
other. 

The father was too late, however. Already the boat was 
several yards from the shore, and the frantic efforts he 
made in the madness of his despair to overtake it, only 
served to exhaust him. When Henry Stuart reached the 
beach, it was with difficulty he prevented those members 
of his band who carried muskets from firing on the boat- 
None of them thought for a moment, of course, of making 
the mad attempt to swim towards her. Indeed, Mr. Mason 
himself would have hesitated to do so had he been capable 
of cool thought at the time, but the sudden rush of hope 
when he heard of his child being near combined with the 
agony of disappointment on seeing her torn, as it were, out 
of his very grasp, was too much for him. His reasoning 
powers were completely overturned; he continued to buffet 
the waves with wild energy, and to strain every fibre of 
his being in the effort to propel himself through the water, 
long after the boat was hopelessly beyond reach. 

Henry understood his feelings well, and knew that the 
poor missionary would not cease his efforts until exhaus¬ 
tion should compel him to do so, in which case his being 
drowned would be a certainty, for there was neither boat 
nor canoe at hand in which to push off to his rescue. 

In these circumstances the youth took the only course 
that seemed left to him. He threw off his clothes and 
prepared to swim after his friend, in order to render the 
assistance of his stout arm when it should be needed. 

“ Here, Jakolu!” he cried to one of the natives who 
stood near him. 

11 Yes, mass’r,” answered the sturdy young fellow, who 
has been introduced at an earlier part of this story as being 


THE SANDAL-WOOD TRADER 


165 


one of the missionary’s best behaved and most active 
church members. 

“ I mean to swim after him, so I leave the charge of the 
party to Mr. Bumpus there. You will act under his orders. 
Keep the men together, and guard against surprise. We 
don’t know how many more of these blackguards may be 
lurking among the rocks.” 

To this speech Jakolu replied by shaking his head slowly 
and gravely, as if he doubted the propriety of his young 
commander’s intentions. 

“ You no can swim queek nuff to save him,” said he. 

“ That remains to be seen,” retorted Henry, sharply, 
for the youth was one of the best swimmers on the island 
— at least the best among the whites, and better than many 
of the natives, although some of the latter could beat him. 
“ At any rate,” he continued, “ you would not have me 
stand idly by while my friend is drowning, would you?” 

“ Him’s not drownin’ yet,” answered the matter-of-fact 
native. “ Me ’vise you to let Jakolu go. Him’s can 
sweem berer dan you. See, here am bit plank, too,— me 
take dat.” 

“ Ha! that’s well thought of,” cried Henry, who was 
now ready to plunge, “ fetch it me, quick — and mind, 
Jakolu, keep your eye on me, when I hold up both hands 
you’ll know that I’m dead beat, and that you must come 
off and help us both.” 

So saying, he seized the small piece of drift-wood which 
the native brought to him, and, plunging into the sea, 
struck out vigorously in the direction in which the pastor 
was still perseveringly, though slowly, swimming. 

While Henry was stripping, his eye had quickly and 
intelligently taken in the facts that were presented to him 


166 


GASCOYNE 


on the bay. He had seen, on descending the hill, that 
the man-of-war had entered the bay and anchored there, 
a fact which surprised him greatly, and that the Foam 
still lay where he had seen her cast anchor on the morning 
of her arrival. This surprised him even more — for, if the 
latter was really a pirate schooner (as had been hinted 
more than once that day by various members of the settle¬ 
ment), why did she remain so fearlessly and peacefully 
within range of the guns of so dangerous and powerful an 
enemy? He also observed that one of the large boats of 
the Talisman was in the water alongside and full of armed 
men, as if about to put off on some warlike expedition, 
while his pocket telescope enabled him to perceive that 
Gascoyne (who must needs be the pirate captain, if the 
suspicions of his friends were correct), was smoking quietly 
on the quarterdeck, apparently holding amicable converse 
with the British commander. The youth knew not what 
to think, for it was preposterous to suppose that a pirate 
captain could by any possibility be the intimate friend of 
his own mother. 

These and many other conflicting thoughts kept rushing 
through his mind as he hastened forward, but the conclu¬ 
sions to which they led him — if, indeed, they led him to 
any — were altogether upset by the unaccountable and 
extremely piratical conduct of the seamen who carried off 
Alice and her companions, and whom he knew to be part 
of the crew of the Foam, both from their costume, and 
from the direction in which they rowed their little boat. 

The young man’s perplexities were, however, neutralised 
for the time by his anxiety for his friend the pastor, and 
by the necessity of instant and vigorous effort for his rescue. 
He had just time, before plunging into the sea, to note with 


THE SANDAL-WOOD TRADER 


167 


satisfaction that the man-of-war’s boat had pushed off, 
and that if Alice really was in the hands of pirates, there 
was the certainty of her being speedily rescued. 

In this latter supposition, however, Henry was mistaken. 

The events on shore which we have just described, had 
been witnessed, of course, by the crews of both vessels, 
with, as may be easily conjectured, very different feelings. 

In the Foam , the few men who were lounging about the 
deck looked uneasily from the war vessel to the counte¬ 
nance of Man ton, in whose hands they felt that their fate 
now lay. The object of their regard paced the deck 
slowly, with his hands in his pockets and a pipe in his 
mouth, in the most listless manner, in order to deceive the 
numerous eyes which he knew full well scanned his move¬ 
ments with deep curiosity. The frowning brow and the 
tightly compressed lips alone indicated the storm of anger 
which was in reality raging in the pirate’s breast at what 
he deemed the obstinacy of his captain in running into 
such danger, and the folly of his men in having shewn 
fight on shore when there was no occasion for doing so* 
But Man ton was too much alive to his own danger and 
interests to allow passion at such a critical moment to 
interfere with his judgment. He paced the deck slowly, 
as we have said, undecided as to what course he ought to 
pursue, but ready to act with the utmost energy and 
promptitude when the time for action should arrive. 

On board the Talisman , on the other hand, the young 
commander began to feel certain of his prize; and when 
he witnessed the scuffle on shore, the flight of the boat’s 
crew with the three young people and the subsequent events, 
he could not conceal a smile of triumph as he turned to 
Gascoyne, and said — 


168 


GASCOYNE 


“ Your men are strangely violent in their proceedings, 
sir, for the crew of a peaceable trader. If it were not that 
they are pulling straight for your schooner, where, no 
doubt, they will be received with open arms, I would have 
fancied they had been part of the crew of that wonderful 
pirate, who seems to be able to change colour almost as 
quickly as he changes position .” 

The allusion had no effect whatever on the impertur¬ 
bable Gascoyne, on whose countenance good humour 
seemed to have been immovably enthroned, for the worse 
his case became, the more amiable and satisfied was his 
aspect. 

“ Surely Captain Montague does not hold me respon¬ 
sible for the doings of my men in my absence,” said he 
calmly. ** I have already said that they are a wild set — 
not easily restrained even when I am present; and fond 
of getting into scrapes when they can. You see, we have 
not a choice of men in these out-of-the-way parts of the 
world.” 

“ Apparently not,” returned Montague, “ but I hope 
to have the pleasure of seeing you order your men to be 
punished for their misdeeds; for, if not, I shall be under 
the necessity of punishing them for you. Is the boat 
ready, Mr. Mulroy?” 

11 It is, sir.” 

“ Then, Mr. Gascoyne, if you will do me the favour to 
step into this boat, I will have much pleasure in accom¬ 
panying you on board your schooner.” 

“ By all means,” replied Gascoyne, with a bland smile, 
as he rose and threw away the end of another cigar, after 
having lighted therewith the sixth or seventh in which he 
had indulged that day. “ Your boat is well manned and 


THE SANDAL-WOOD TRADER 


169 


your men are well armed, Captain Montague; do you go 
on some cutting-out expedition, or are you so much alarmed 
at the terrible aspect of the broadside of my small craft 
that-” 

Gascoyne here smiled with ineffable urbanity, and bowed 
slightly by way of finishing his sentence. Montague was 
saved the annoyance of having to reply, by a sudden ex¬ 
clamation from his lieutenant, who wa 3 observing the 
schooner’s boat through his telescope. 

“ There seems to be some one swimming after that boat,” 
said he. “ A man — evidently a European, for he is light- 
coloured. He must have been some time in the water, for 
he is already a long way from shore, and seems much 
exhausted.” 

“ Why, the man is drowning, I believe,” cried Mon¬ 
tague, quickly, as he looked through the glass. 

At that moment Frederick Mason’s strength had given 
way; he made one or two manful efforts to struggle after 
the retreating boat, and, then, tossing his arms in the air, 
uttered a loud cry of agony. 

“ Ho! shove off and save him,” shouted Montague, the 
moment he heard it. ” Look alive, lads, give way! and 
when you have picked up the man, pull straight for yonder 
schooner.” 

The oars at once fell into the water with a splash, and 
the boat, large and heavy though it was, shot from the 
ship’s side like an arrow. 

“ Lower the gig,” cried the captain. “ And now, Mr. 
Gascoyne, since you seem disposed to go in a lighter boat, 
I will accommodate you. Pray follow me.” 

In a few seconds they were seated in the little gig which 
seemed to fly over the sea under the vigorous strokes of 



170 


GASCOYNE 


her crew of eight stout men. So swift were her motions, 
that she reached the side of the schooner only a few minutes 
later than the Foam's boat, and a considerable time before 
his own large boat had picked up Mr. Mason, who was 
found in an almost insensible condition, supported by Henry 
Stuart. 

When the gig came within a short distance of the Foam, 
Gascoyne directed Montague’s attention to the proceedings 
of the large boat, and at the same instant made a private 
signal with his right hand to Manton, who, still unn oved 
and inactive, stood at the schooner’s bow awaiting and 
evidently expecting it. 

“ Ha!” said he aloud, “ I thought as much. Now, lads, 
shew the red — make ready to slip — off with Long Tom’s 
nightcap — let out the skulkers — take these children 
down below, and a dozen of you stand by to receive the 
captain and his friends." 

These somewhat peculiar orders, hurriedly given, were 
hastily obeyed, and in a few seconds more the gig of the 
Talisman ranged up alongside of the Foam. 


THE SANDAL-WOOD TRADER 


171 


CHAPTER XVII 

THE ESCAPE 

The instant that Captain Montague stepped over the side 
of the schooner, a handkerchief was pressed tightly over his 
mouth and nose. At the same time, he was seized by four 
strong men and rendered utterly powerless. The thing 
was done so promptly and silently, that the men who re¬ 
mained in the gig heard no unusual sound. 

" I’m sorry to treat a guest so roughly, Captain Mon¬ 
tague,” said Gascoyne, in a low tone, as the unfortunate 
officer was carried aft, “ but the safety of my vessel requires 
it. They will carry you to my state-room, where you will 
find my steward exceedingly attentive and obliging, but, 
let me warn you , he is peculiarly ready with the butt end of 
his pistol at times, especially when men are inclined to 
make unnecessary noise.” He turned on his heel as he 
said this and went forward, looking over the side in passing 
and telling the crew of the gig to remain where they were 
till their captain should call them. 

This order the men felt constrained to obey, although 
they were surprised that the captain himself had not given 
it on quitting the boat; their suspicions were further awak¬ 
ened by the active operations going on upon deck. The 
sounds apprised them of these for the bulwarks hid every¬ 
thing from view. At length, when they heard the cable 
slipping through the hawse-hole, they could stand it no 
longer, but sprang up the side in a body. Of course they 
were met by men well prepared. As they were armed 


172 


GASCOYNE 


only with cutlasses, the pirates quickly overcame them and 
threw them into the sea. 

All further attempt at concealment was now abandoned. 
The man-of-war’s boat, when it came up, was received with 
a shot from Long Tom, which grazed its side, carried away 
four of the starboard oars, and just missed dashing it to 
pieces by a mere hairsbreadth. At the same time the sails 
of the schooner were shaken out and filled by the light 
breeze, which, for nearly an hour, had been blowing off 
shore. 

As the coming up of the gig and the large boat had 
occurred on that side of the schooner that was farthest 
from the Talisman , those on board of the latter vessel could 
not make out clearly what had occurred. That the 
schooner was a pirate was now clearly evident, for the red 
griffin and stripe were suddenly displayed as well as the 
blood-red flag; but the first lieutenant did not dare to fire 
on her while the boats were so near. He slipped the cable, 
however, and made instant sail on the ship, and when he 
saw the large boat and the gig drop astern of the schooner 
— the former in a disabled condition — he commenced 
firing as fast as he could load; not doubting that his captain 
was in his own boat. 

At such short range the shot flew around the pirate 
schooner like hail, but she appeared to bear a charmed 
existence, for, although they whistled between her spars 
and struck the sea all around her, very few indeed did her 
serious damage. The shots from Long Tom, on the other 
hand, were well aimed, and told with terrible effect on the 
hull and rigging of the frigate. Gascoyne himself pointed 
the gun, and his bright eye flashed, and a grim smile played 
on his lips as the shots whistled round his head. 


THE-SANDAL-WOOD TRADER 


173 


The pirate captain seemed to be possessed by a spirit of 
fierce and reckless jovialty that day. His usual calm self- 
possesesd demeanour quite forsook him. He issued his 
orders in a voice of thunder and with an air of what, for 
want of a better expression, we may term ferocious hearti¬ 
ness. He generally executed these orders himself, hurling 
the men violently out of his way as if he were indignant 
at their tardiness, although they sprang to obey as actively 
as usual — indeed more so, for they were overawed and 
somewhat alarmed by this unwonted conduct on the part 
of their captain. 

The fact was, that Gascoyne had for a long time past 
desired to give up his course of life and amend his ways, 
but he discovered, as all wicked men discover sooner or 
later, that while it is easy to plunge into evil courses it is 
by no means easy — on the contrary it is extremely diffi¬ 
cult — to give them up. He had formed his resolution and 
had laid his plans; but all his plans had miscarried. Being 
a man of high temper he had been driven almost to 
desperation, and sought relief to his feelings in physical 
exertion. 

Of all the men in the Avenger , however, no one was so 
much alarmed by the captain’s conduct as the first mate, 
between whom and Gascoyne there had been a bitter feel¬ 
ing for some time past; and Man ton knew (at least he be¬ 
lieved) that it would be certain death to him if he should 
chance to thwart his superior in the mood in which he then 
was. 

“ That was a good shot, Manton,” said Gascoyne, with 
a wild laugh, as the fore-topsail yard of the Talisman came 
rattling down on the deck, having been cut away by a shot 
from Long Tom. 


174 


GASCOYNE 


“ It was, but that was a better one,” said Manton, point¬ 
ing to the boom of the schooner’s mainsail, which was cut 
in two by a round shot, just as the captain spoke. 

“ Good, very good,” observed the latter with an approv¬ 
ing nod; “ but that alters the game; down with the helm! 
steady!” 

“ Get the wreck of that boom cleared away, Manton, we 
won’t want the mainsail long. Here comes a squall. Look 
sharp. Close reef topsails.” 

The boom was swaying to and fro so violently, that three 
of the men who sprang to obey the order were hurled by it 
into the lee scuppers. Gascoyne darted towards the broken 
spar and held it fast, while Manton quickly severed the 
ropes that fastened it to the sail and to the deck, then the 
former hurled it over the side with as much ease as if it 
had been an oar. 

“ Let her away now.” 

“Why, that will run us right into the Long Shoal!” 
exclaimed Manton, anxiously, as the squall which had been 
approaching struck the schooner and laid her almost on 
her beam ends. 

“ I know it,” replied Gascoyne curtly, as he thrust aside 
the man at the wheel and took the spokes in his own hands. 

“ It’s all we can do to find our way through that place 
in fine weather,” remonstrated the mate. 

“ I know it,” said Gascoyne, sternly. 

Scraggs, who chanced to be standing by, seemed to be 
immensely delighted with the alarmed expression on Man- 
ton’s face. The worthy second mate hated the first mate 
so cordially and attached so little value to his own life, that 
he would willingly have run the schooner on the rocks 


THE SANDAL-WOOD TRADER 175 

altogether, just to have the pleasure of laughing contemp¬ 
tuously at the wreck of Manton’s hopes. 

“ It’s worth while trying it,” suggested Scraggs, with a 
malicious grin. 

“ I mean to try it,” said Gascoyne, calmly. 

“ But there’s not a spot in the shoal except the Eel’s 
Gate that we’ve a ghost of a chance of getting through,” 
cried Man ton, becoming excited as the schooner dashed 
towards the breakers like a furious charger rushing on 
destruction. 

“ I know it.’ v 

“ And there’s barely water on that to float us over,” he 
added, striding forward, and laying a hand on the wheel. 

“ Half-a-foot too little,” said Gascoyne, with forced 
calmness. 

Scraggs grinned. 

“ You shan’t run us aground, if I can prevent it,” cried 
Man ton, fiercely, seizing the wheel with both hands and 
attempting to move it, in which attempt he utterly failed, 
and Scraggs grinned broader than ever. 

“ Remove your hands,” said Gascoyne, in a low calm 
voice, which surprised the men who were standing near 
and witnessed these proceedings. 

“ I won’t. Ho! lads, do you wish to be sent to the 
bottom by a-” 

The remainder of this speech was cut short by the sudden 
descent of Gascoyne’s knuckles on the forehead of the 
mate, who dropped on the deck as if he had been felled 
with a sledge hammer. Scraggs laughed outright with 
satisfaction. 

“ Remove him,” said Gascoyne. 

“ Overboard?” inquired Scraggs, with a bland smile. 



176 


GASCOYNE 


“ Below,” said the captain; and Scraggs was fain to 
content himself with carrying the insensible form of his 
superior officer to his berth, taking pains, however, to 
bump his head carefully against every spar and corner and 
otherwise convenient projection on the way down. 

In a few minutes more the schooner was rushing through 
the milk-white foam that covered the dangerous coral 
reef named the Long Shoals, and the Talisman lay-to, not 
daring to venture into such a place, but pouring shot and 
shell into her bold little adversary with terrible effect, as 
her tattered sails and flying cordage shewed. The fire was 
steadily replied to by Long Tom, whose heavy shots came 
crashing repeatedly through the hull of the man-of-war. 

The large boat, meanwhile, had been picked up by the 
Talisman , after having rescued Mr. Mason and Henry, 
both of whom were placed in the gig. This light boat was 
now struggling to make the ship, but owing to the strength 
of the squall, her diminished crew were unable to effect 
this; they therefore ran ashore to await the issue of the 
fight and the storm. 

For some time the Avenger stood on her wild course 
unharmed, passing close to huge rocks on either side of 
her, over which the sea burst in clouds of foam. Gas¬ 
coyne still stood at the wheel, guiding the vessel with con¬ 
summate skill and daring, while the men looked on in 
awe and in breathless expectation, quite regardless of the 
shot which flew around them and altogether absorbed by 
the superior danger by which they were menaced. 

The surface of the sea was so universally white, that 
there was no line of dark water to guide the pirate captain 
on his bold and desperate course. He was obliged to trust 
almost entirely to his intimate knowledge of the coast, and 


THE SANDAL-WOOD TRADER 


177 


to the occasional patches in the surrounding waste where 
the comparative flatness of the boiling flood indicated 
less shallow water. As the danger increased, the smile 
left Gascoyne’s lips, but the flashing of his bright eyes and 
his deepened colour shewed that the spirit boiled within, 
almost as wildly as the ocean raged around him. 

The centre of the shoal was gained, and a feeling of hope 
and exultation began to rise in the breasts of the crew, when 
a terrific shock caused the little schooner to quiver from 
stem to stern, while an involuntary cry burst from the 
men, many of whom were thrown violently on the deck. 
At the same time a shot from the Talisman came in through 
the stern bulwarks, struck the wheel and carried it away 
with part of the tackle attached to the tiller. 

“ Another leap like that, lass, and you’re over,” cried 
Gascoyne, with a light smile, as he sprang to the iron 
tiller, and, seizing it with his strong hands, steered the 
schooner as if she had been a boat. 

“ Get new tackle rove, Scraggs,” said he, cheerfully, 
“ I’ll keep her straight for Eel’s Gate with this. That was 
the first bar of the gate — there are only two altogether, and 
the second won’t be so bad.” 

As the captain spoke, the schooner seemed to recover 
from the shock and again rushed forward on her foaming 
course; but before the men had time to breathe, she struck 
again — this time less violently, as had been predicted — 
and the next wave, lifting her over the shoal, launched her 
into deep water. 

" There, that will do,” said Gascoyne, resigning the 
helm to Scraggs. “ You can keep her as she goes; there’s 
plenty of water now and no fear of that big bully following 


178 


GASCOYNE 


us. Meanwhile, I will go below and see to the welfare of 
our passengers.” 

Gascoyne was wrong in supposing that the Talisman 
would not follow. She could not, indeed, follow in the 
same course, but the moment that Mulroy observed that 
the pirate had passed the shoals in safety, he stood inshore, 
and, without waiting to pick up the gig, traversed the 
channel by which they had entered the bay. Then, trusting 
to the lead and to his knowledge of the general appearance 
of shallows, he steered carefully along until he cleared the 
reefs and finally stood out to sea. 

In less than half-an-hour afterwards, the party on shore 
beheld the two vessels disappear among the black storm- 
clouds that gathered over the distant horizon. 


THE SANDAL-WOOD TRADER 


179 


CHAPTER XVIII 

THE GOAT’S PASS-AN ATTACK, A BLOODLESS VICTORY AND 

A SERMON 

When Ole Thorwald was landed at the foot of that wild 
gorge in the cliffs, which has been designated the Goat’s 
Pass, he felt himself to be an aggrieved man, and growled 
accordingly. 

“ It’s too bad o’ that fire-eating fellow to fix on me for 
this particular service,” said he to one of the settlers named 
Hugh Barnes, a cooper, who acted as one of his captains; 
“ and at night too, just as if a man of my years were a cross 
between a cat (which everybody knows can see in the 
dark) and a kangaroo, which is said to be a powerful leaper, 
though whether in the dark or the light I don’t pretend to 
know — not being informed on the point. Have a care, 
Hugh. It seems to me you’re going to step into a quarry 
hole, or over a precipice. How my old flesh quakes, to be 
sure! If it was only a fair flat field and open day, with any 
odds you like against me, it would be nothing; but this 

abominable Goat’b- Hah! I knew it. Help! hold on 

there! murder!” 

Ole’s sudden alarm was caused by his stumbling in the 
dark over the root of a shrub which grew on the edge of, 
and partly concealed, a precipice, over which he was pre¬ 
cipitated, and at the foot of which his mangled and lifeless 
form would soon have reposed, had not his warlike fore¬ 
fathers, being impressed with the advantage of wearing 
strong sword-belts, furnished the sword which Ole wore 



180 


GASCOYNE 


with such a belt as was not only on all occasions sufficient 
to support the sword itself, but which, on this particular 
occasion, was strong enough to support its owner when he 
was suspended from, and entangled with, the shrubs of 
the cliff. 

A ray of light chanced to break into the dark chasm at 
the time, and revealed all its dangers to the pendulous 
Thorwald so powerfully that he positively howled with 
horror. 

The howl brought Hugh and several of his followers to 
his side, and they with much difficulty, for he was a heavy 
man, succeeded in dragging him from his dangerous posi¬ 
tion and placing him on his feet, in which position he re¬ 
mained for some time speechless and blowing. 

“ Now, I’ll tell ye what it is, boys,” said he at length, 
“ if ever you catch me going on an expedition of this 
sort again, flay me alive — that’s all — don’t spare me. 
Pull off the cuticle as if it were a glove, and if I roar don’t 
mind — that’s what I say.” 

Having said this, the veteran warrior smiled a ghastly 
smile, as if the idea of being so excruciatingly treated were 
rather pleasant than otherwise. 

“ You’re not hurt, I hope,” inquired Hugh. 

“ Hurt! yes, I am hurt — hurt in my feelings — not in 
my body, thanks to my good sword and belt; but my feel¬ 
ings are injured. That villain, that rascal, that pirate — 
as I verily believe him to be — selected me specially for 
this service, I am persuaded, just because he knew me to be 
unfit for it. Bah! but I’ll pay him off for it. Come, boys, 
forward — perhaps, in the circumstances, it would be more 
appropriate to say, upward! We must go through with it 
now for our retreat is cut off. Lead the way, Hugh, your 


THE SANDAL-WOOD TRADER 


181 


eyes are younger and sharper than mine, and if you chance 
to fall over a cliff, give a yell, like a good fellow, so that I 
may escape your sad fate.” 

In the course of half an hour’s rough scramble, the party 
gained the crest of the Goat’s Pass and descended in rear 
of the native village. The country over which they had 
to travel, however, was so broken and so beset with rugged 
masses of rock as to retard their progress considerably, 
besides causing them to lose their way more than once. 
It was thus daybreak before they reached the heights that 
overlooked the village, and the shot from the Avenger with 
the broadside from the frigate was delivered just as they 
began to descend the hill. 

Ole, therefore pushed on with enthusiasm to attack the 
village in rear, but he had not advanced half a mile when 
the peculiar, and to him inexplicable, movements of the 
two vessels which have been already described, took place, 
leaving the honest commander of the land forces in a state 
of great perplexity as to what was meant by his naval allies t 
and in much doubt as to what he ought to do. 

When the Talisman fired her broadside of blank cart¬ 
ridge at the native village, there was not a solitary warrior 
in it — only aged men, women and children. These, filled 
with unutterable consternation on hearing the thunderous 
discharge, sent up one yell of terror and forthwith took to 
their heels and made for the hills en masse , never once 
looking behind them, and, therefore, remaining in ignorance 
of the ulterior proceedings of the ships. 

It was some time before they came in sight of Ole Thor- 
wald and his men. 

The moment they did so Ole gave the word to charge, 
and, whirling his sword round his head, set the example. 


182 


GASCOYNE 


The men followed with a yell. The poor savages turned 
at once and fled — such of them at least as were not already 
exhausted by their run up hill — and the rest, consisting 
chiefly of old men and children, fell on their knees and 
faces and howled for mercy. 

As soon as the charging host became aware of the charac¬ 
ter of the enemy, they came to a sudden halt. 

41 Sure it’s owld men and women we’re about to kill!” 
cried Captain Rigg, lowering his formidable forehammer, 
with which, in default of a better weapon, he had armed 
himself, 44 but hooray! Gineral, there may be lots o’ the 
warrior reptiles in among the huts, and them poor craturs 
have been sent out to decaive us.” 

44 That’s true. Forward, my lads!” shouted Ole — and 
again the army charged — nor did they stop short until they 
had taken possession of the village, when they found that 
all the fighting men were gone. 

This being happily accomplished without bloodshed, Ole 
Thorwald, like a wise general, took the necessary steps 
to insure and complete his conquest. He seized all the 
women and children and shut them up in a huge temple 
built of palm-trees and roofed with broad leaves. This 
edifice was devoted to the horrible practice of cutting up 
human bodies that were intended to be eaten. 

Ole had often heard of the cannibalism that is practised 
by most of the South Sea islanders, though some tribes 
are worse than others, but he had never before this day 
come directly in contact with it. Here, however, there 
could be no doubt whatever of the fact. Portions of 
human bodies were strewn about this hideous temple — 
some parts in a raw and bloody condition, as if they had 


THE SANDAL-WOOD TRADER 


183 


just been cut from a lately slain victim; others in a baked 
state, as if ready to form part of some terrible banquet. 

Sick at heart Ole Thorwald turned from this sight with 
loathing. Concluding that the natives who practised such 
things could not be very much distressed by being shut up 
for a time in a temple dedicated to the gratification of their 
own disgusting tastes, he barricaded the entrance securely, 
placed a guard over it, and hurried away to see that two 
other buildings, in which the remainder of the women and 
children had been imprisoned, were similarly secured and 
guarded. Meanwhile the stalwart knight of the fore¬ 
hammer, to whom the duty had been assigned, placed sen¬ 
tries at the various entrances to the village, and disposed 
his men in such a way as to prevent the possibility of being 
taken by surprise. 

These various arrangements were not made a moment 
too soon. The savages, as we have said in a former chap¬ 
ter, rushed towards their village from all quarters, on hear¬ 
ing the thunder of the great guns. They were now arriving 
in scores, and came rushing over the brow of the neighbour¬ 
ing hill, and down the slopes that rose immediately in rear 
of their rude homes. 

On finding that the place was occupied by their enemies 
they set up a yell of despair, and retired to a neighbouring 
height, where Ole could see, by their wild gesticulations, 
that they were hotly debating what should be done. It 
soon became evident that an attack would be made, for, as 
their comrades came pouring in, the party from the settle¬ 
ment was soon greatly outnumbered. 

Seeing this, and knowing that the party under command 
of Henry Stuart would naturally hasten to his aid as soon 


184 


GASCOYNE 


as possible, Ole sought to cause delay by sending out a flag 
of truce. 

The natives had been so long acquainted with the customs 
of the Europeans that they understood the meaning of this, 
and the chief of the tribe, at once throwing down his club, 
advanced fearlessly to meet the Christian native sent out 
with the flag. 

The message was to the effect that if they, the enemy, 
should dare to make an attack, all the women and children 
then in the hands of the settlers should have their heads 
chopped off on the spot! 

This was a startling announcement, and one so directly 
in opposition to the known principles of the Christians, 
that the heathen chief was staggered and turned pale. He 
returned to his comrades with the horrifying message, 
which seemed to them all utterly unaccountable. It was 
quite natural for themselves to do such a deed, because 
they held that all sorts of cruelties were just in war. But 
their constant experience had been that, when a native 
became a follower of the Christian missionary, from that 
moment he became merciful, especially towards the weak 
and helpless. Counting upon this, they were stunned as 
well as astonished at Thorwald’s message; for they believed 
implicitly that he meant to do what he threatened. They 
did not know that Ole, although a worthy man, was not so 
earnest a believer in all Mr. Mason’s principles, but that 
he could practise on their credulity in time of need. Like 
the missionary, he would rather have died than have sacri¬ 
ficed the life of a woman or child; but, unlike him, he had 
no objection to deceive in order to gain time. 

As it turned out, his threat was unnecessary, for Henry 
and his men were close at hand; and before the natives 


THE SANDAL-WOOD TRADER 


185 


could make up their minds what to do, the whole band 
came pouring over the hill, with Jo Bumpus far ahead of 
the rest, leaping and howling like a maniac with excite¬ 
ment. 

This decided the natives. They were now outnumbered 
and surrounded. The principal chief, therefore, advanced 
towards Bumpus with a piece of native cloth tied to the 
end of his war-club, which he brandished furiously by way 
of making it plain that his object was not war, but peace! 

Naturally enough, the seaman misinterpreted the signal, 
and there is no doubt that he would have planted his 
knuckles on the bridge of the nose of that swarthy cannibal 
had not Henry Stuait made use of his extraordinary powers 
of speed. He darted forward, overtook Jo, and, grasping 
him round the neck with both arms, shouted — 

“ It’s a flag of truce, man!” 

“ You don’t say so? well, who’d ha’ thought it! It don’t 
look like one, so it don’t.” 

With this remark, Jo subsided into a peaceable man. 
Pulling a quid out of his pocket, he thrust it into his cheek, 
and, crossing his arms on his breast, listened patiently — 
though not profitably, seeing that he did not understand a 
word — to the dialogue that followed. 

It will be remembered that poor Mr. Mason, after being 
saved by Henry, was taken into the gig of the Talisman 
and put ashore. After the two vessels had disappeared, as 
has been already described, Henry at once led his party 
towards the native village, knowing that Ole Thorwald 
would require support, all the more that the ship had failed 
to fulfil her part in the combined movement. 

As the almost heartbroken father had no power to render 
further aid to his lost child, he suffered himself to be led, in 


186 


GASCOYNE 


a half-bewildered state, along with the attacking party 
under his young friend. He was now brought forward to 
parley with the native chief. 

The missionary’s manner and aspect at once changed. 
In the hope of advancing the cause of his Master, he for¬ 
got, or at least restrained, his own grief for a time. 

“ What would the chief say to the Christians?” he 
began, on being confronted with the savage, and some of 
his warriors who crowded round him. 

“ That he wishes to have done with war,” replied the 
man. 

“ That is a good wish, but why did the chief begin war?” 

“ Keona began it!” said the savage, angrily. “We 
thought our wars with the Christians were going to stop. 
But Keona is bad. He put the war spirit into my people.” 

Mr. Mason knew this to be true. 

“ Then,” said he, “ Keona deserves punishment.” 

“ Let him die,” answered the chief, and an exclamation 
of assent broke from the other natives. Keona himself, 
happening to be there, became pale and looked anxious, 
but remained where he stood nevertheless, with his arms 
crossed on his dark breast. A bandage of native cloth was 
tied round his wounded arm. Without saying a word, he 
undid this, tore it off, and allowed the blood to ooze from 
the re-opened wound. 

It was a silent appeal to the feelings and the sense of 
justice of his comrades, and created a visible impression in 
his favour. 

“ That wound was received by one who would have been 
a murderer!” said Mr. Mason, observing the effect of this 
action. 

“ He struck me!” cried Keona, fiercely. 


THE SANDAL-WOOD TRADER 


187 


“ He struck you in defending his own home against a 
cowardly attack,” answered the missionary. 

At this point Ole Thorwald saw fit to interfere. Seeing 
that the natives were beginning to argue the case, and 
knowing that no good could come from such a course, he 
quietly observed: — 

“ There will be neither wife nor child in this place if I 
do but hold up my hand.” 

The missionary and his party did not, of course, under¬ 
stand this allusion, but they understood the result, for the 
savages at once dropped their tones, and the chief sued 
earnestly for peace. 


188 


GASCOYNE 


CHAPTER XIX 

SORROW AND SYMPATHY-THE WIDOW BECOMES A PLEADER, 

AND HER SON ENGAGES IN A SINGLE COMBAT 

There are times in the life of every one when the heart 
seems unable to bear the load of sorrow and suffering that 
is laid upon it; — times when the anguish of the soul is such 
that the fair world around seems enshrouded with gloom, 
when the bright sun itself appears to shine in mockery, 
and when the smitten heart refuses to be comforted. 

Such a time was it with poor Frederick Mason when, 
after his return to Sandy Cove, he stood alone, amid the 
blackened ruins of his former home, gazing at the spot 
which he knew, from the charred remnants as well as its 
position, was the site of the room which had once been 
occupied by his lost child. 

The widow’s cottage afforded him shelter. When he 
entered it Henry and his mother were seated near a small 
table on which supper was spread for their expected guest. 

“ Tom Armstrong will recover,” said the missionary, 
seating himself opposite the widow and speaking in a 
hurried excited tone. “ His wound is a bad one given by 
a war-club, but I think it is not dangerous. I wish I could 
say as much for poor Simon. If he had been attended to 
sooner he might have lived, but so much blood has been 
already lost that there is now no hope. Alas! for his little 
boy. He will be an orphan soon. Poor, poor Lucy! she 
will have to be comforted. You will go to her to-morrow, 
Mrs. Stuart, won’t you?” 


THE SANDAL-WOOD TRADER 


189 


As this was Mr. Mason’s first meeting with the widow 
since the Sunday morning when the village was attacked, 
his words and manner shewed that he dreaded any allusion 
to his own loss. The widow saw and understood this, but 
she had consolation for him as well as for others, and would 
not allow him to have his way. 

“ But what of Alice?” she said, earnestly. “ You do 
not mention her. Henry has told me all. Have you 
nothing to say about yourself — about Alice?” 

“ Oh! what can I say?” cried the pastor, clasping his 
hands, while a deep sob almost choked him. 

“ I speak thus,” said the widow, with an earnestness of 
tone and manner that almost startled her hearers, “ because 

I wish to comfort you. Alice, you tell me, is on board the 
Foam .” 

11 On board the pirate schoonerl '’ cried Henry, almost 
fiercely, for the youth, although as much distressed as Mr. 
Mason, was not so resigned as he, and his spirit chafed at 
the thought of having been deceived so terribly by the 
pirate. 

“ She is on board the Foam," repeated the widow in a 
tone so stern that her hearers looked at her in surprise. 

II And is therefore in the hands of Gascoyne, who will not 
injure a hair of her head. I tell you, Mr. Mason, that she 
is perfectly safe in the hands of Gascoyne.” 

“ Of the pirate Durward!” said Henry, in a deep angry 
voice. 

“ What ground have you for saying so?” asked the 
widow, quickly. “You only know him as Gascoyne the 
sandal-wood trader, the captain of the Foam. He has been 
suspected, it is true, but suspicion is not proof. His 
schooner has been fired into by a war vessel, he has returned 


190 


GASCOYNE 


the fire — any passionate man might be tempted to do that. 
His men have carried off some of our dear ones. That was 
their doing — not his. He knew nothing of it.” 

“ Mother, mother,” cried Henry, entreatingly, “ don’t 
stand up in that way for a pirate; I can’t bear to hear it. 
Did he not himself describe the pirate schooner’s appear¬ 
ance in this room, and when he was attacked by the Talis¬ 
man did he not shew out in his true colours, thereby proving 
that he is Durward the pirate?” 

The widow’s face grew pale and her voice trembled as 
she replied, like one who sought to convince herself rather 
than her hearer, “ That is not positive proof, Henry. Gas¬ 
coyne may have had some good reason for deceiving you 
all in this way. His description of the pirate may have 
been a false one. We cannot tell. You know he was 
anxious to prevent Captain Montague from impressing his 
men.” 

“ And would proclaiming himself a pirate be a good way 
of accomplishing that end, mother?” 

“ Mary,” said Mr. Mason solemnly, as he seated himself 
at the table and looked earnestly in the widow’s face. 
“ Your knowledge of this man and your manner of speak¬ 
ing about him surprises me. I have long thought that you 
were not acting wisely in permitting Gascoyne to be so 
intimate; for, whatever he may in reality be, he is a sus¬ 
picious character, to say the best of him; and although I 
know that you think you are right in encouraging his visits, 
other people do not know that; they may judge you harshly. 
I do not wish to pry into secrets — but you have sought 
to comfort me by bidding me have perfect confidence in 
this man. I must ask what knowledge you have of him. 


THE SANDAL-WOOD TRADER 


191 


How far are you aware of his character and employment? 
How do you know that he is so trustworthy?” 

An expression of deep grief rested on the widow’s coun¬ 
tenance as she replied in a sad voice — 

“ I know that you may trust Gascoyne with your child. 
He is my oldest friend. I have known him since we were 
children. He saved my father’s life long, long ago, and 
helped to support my mother in her last years. Would you 
have me forget all this because men say that he is a pirate?” 

“ Why, mother,” cried Henry, “ if you know so much 
about him you must know that, whatever he was in time 
past, he is the pirate Durward now.” 

“ I do not know that he is the pirate Durward!” said the 
widow in a voice and with a look so decided that Henry was 
silenced and sorely perplexed — yet much relieved, for he 
knew that his mother would rather die than tell a deliberate 
falsehood. 

The missionary was also comforted, for although his 
judgment told him that the grounds of hope thus held out 
to him were very insufficient, he was impressed by the 
thoroughly confident tone of the widow and felt relieved 
in spite of himself. 

Soon after this conversation was concluded the household 
retired to rest. 

Next morning Henry was awakened out of a deep sleep 
by the sound of subdued voices in the room underneath his 
own. At first he paid no attention to these, supposing that, 
as it was broad daylight, some of their native servants were 
moving about. But presently the sound of his mother’s 
voice induced him to listen more attentively. Then a 
voice replied, so low that he could with difficulty hear it at 


192 


GASCOYNE 


all. Its strength increased, however, and at last it broke 
forth in deep bass tones. 

Henry sprang up and threw on his clothes. As he was 
thus engaged the front door of the house opened; and the 
speakers went out. A few seconds sufficed for the youth to 
finish dressing; then, seizing a pistol, he hurried out of the 
house. Looking quickly round he just caught sight of the 
skirts of a woman’s dress as they disappeared through the 
doorway of a hut which had been formerly inhabited by a 
poor native who had subsisted on the widow’s bounty 
until he died. The door was shut immediately after. 

Going swiftly but cautiously round by a backway, Henry 
approached the hut. Strange and conflicting feelings filled 
his breast. A blush of deep shame and self-abhorrence 
manteled on his cheek when it flashed across him that he 
was about to play the spy on his own mother. But there 
was no mistaking Gascoyne’s voice. 

How the supposed pirate had got there, and wherefore 
he was there, were matters that he did not think of or care 
about at that moment. There he was, so the young man 
resolved to secure him and hand him over to justice. 

Looking through a chink in the wall at the end of the 
hut, he beheld the stalwart form of the sandal-wood trader 
standing on the hearth of the hut, which was almost un¬ 
furnished — a stool, a bench, an old chest, a table, and a 
chair, being all that it contained. His mother was seated 
at the table with her hands clasped before her, looking up 
at her companion. 

“Oh! why run so great a risk as this?” said she, ear¬ 
nestly. 

“ I was born to run risks, I believe,” replied Gascoyne, 
in a sad low voice. “It matters not. My being on the 






ARREST YOU-IN THE KING’S NAME 1 .” Page 193 




THE SANDAL-WOOD TRADER 


193 


island is the result of Manton’s villainy — my being here is 
for poor Henry’s sake and your own, as well as for the sake 
of Alice, the missionary’s child. You have been upright, 
Mary, and kind, and true as steel ever since I knew you. 
But for that I should have been lost long ago-” 

Henry heard no more. These words did indeed whet his 
curiosity to the utmost, but the shame of acting the part of 
an “ eavesdropper ” was so great that, by a strong effort 
of will, he drew back and pondered for a moment what he 
ought to do. The unexpected tone and tenor of Gas¬ 
coyne’s remark had softened him slightly; but, recalling 
the undoubted proofs that he had had of his really being a 
pirate, he soon steeled his heart against him. He argued 
that the mere fact of the man giving his mother credit for 
a character which everybody knew she possessed, was not 
sufficient to clear him of the suspicions which he had raised 
against himself. Besides, it was impertinence in any man 
to tell his mother his opinion of her to her face. And to 
call him “ poor Henry,” forsooth. This was not to be 
endured! 

Having thus wrought himself up to a sufficient degree of 
indignation, the young man went straight to the door, 
making considerable noise in order to prepare those within 
for his advent. He had expected to find it locked. In 
this he was mistaken. It yielded to a push. 

Throwing it wide open, Henry strode into the middle 
of the apartment, and, pointing the pistol at Gascoyne’s 
breast, exclaimed — 

“ Pirate Durward, I arrest you in the king’s name!” 

At the first sound of her son’s approach, Mrs. Stuart 
bent forward over the table with a groan, and buried her 
face in her hands. 



194 GASCOYNE 

Gascoyne received Henry’s speech at first with a frown 
and then with a smile. 

“ You have taken a strange time and way to jest, Henry,” 
said he, crossing his arms on his broad chest and gazing 
boldly in the youth’s face. 

“ You will not throw me off my guard thus,” said Henry, 
sternly. “You are my prisoner. I know you to be a 
pirate. At any rate you will have to prove yourself to be 
an honest man before you quit this hut a free man. Mother, 
leave this place that I may lock the door upon him.” 

The widow did not move, but Gascoyne made a step 
towards her son. 

“ Another step and I will fire. Your blood shall be on 
your own head, Gascoyne.” 

As Gascoyne still advanced, Henry pointed the pistol 
straight at his breast and pulled the trigger, but no report 
followed — the priming, indeed, flashed in the pan, but that 
was all! 

With a cry of rage and defiance, Henry leaped upon 
Gascoyne like a young lion. He struck at him with the 
pistol, but the latter caught the weapon in his powerful 
hand, wrenched it from the youth’s grasp and flung it to 
the other end of the apartment. 

“You shall not escape me,” cried Henry, aiming a tre¬ 
mendous blow with his fist at Gascoyne’s face. It was 
parried, and the next moment the two closed in a deadly 
struggle. 

It was a terrible sight for the widow to witness, these 
two Herculean men exerting their great strength to the 
utmost in a hand-to-hand conflict in that small hut, like two 
tigers in a cage. 

Henry, although nearly six feet in height, and propor- 


THE SANDAL-WOOD TRADER 


195 


tionally broad and powerful, was much inferior to his 
gigantic antagonist; but to the superior size and physical 
force of the latter he opposed the lithe activity and the 
fervid energy of youth, so that to an unpractised eye it 
might have seemed doubtful at first which of the two men 
had the best chance. 

Straining his powers to the utmost, Henry attempted to 
lift his opponent off the ground and throw him. In this 
he was nearly successful. Gascoyne staggered, but re¬ 
covered himself instantly. They did not move much from 
the centre of the room, nor was there much noise created 
during the conflict. It seemed too close — too full of con¬ 
centrated energy — of heavy, prolonged straining — for 
much violent motion. The great veins in Gascoyne’s 
forehead stood out like knotted cords; yet there was no 
scowl or frown on his face. Henry’s brows, on the con¬ 
trary, were gathered into a dark frown. His teeth were 
set, and his countenance flushed to deep red by exertion 
and passion. 

Strange to say, the widow made no effort to separate the 
combatants; neither did she attempt to move from her seat 
or give any alarm. She sat with her hands on the table 
clasped tightly together, gazing eagerly, anxiously, like a 
fascinated creature, at the wild struggle that was going on 
before her. 

Again and again Henry attempted, with all the fire of 
youth, to throw his adversary by one tremendous effort, but 
failed. Then he tried to fling him off, so as to have the 
power of using his fists or making an overwhelming rush. 
But Gascoyne held him in his strong arms like a vice. 
Several times he freed his right arm and attempted to plant 
a blow, but Gascoyne caught the blow in his hand, or seized 


196 


GASCOYNE 


the wrist and prevented its being delivered. In short, do 
what he would, Henry Stuart could neither free himself 
from the embrace of his enemy nor conquer him. Still he 
struggled on, for as this fact became more apparent the 
youth’s blood became hotter from mingled shame and anger. 

Both men soon began to shew symptoms of fatigue. It 
was not in the nature of things that two such frames, ani¬ 
mated by such spirits, could prolong so exhausting a 
struggle. It was not doubtful now which of the two would 
come off victorious. During the whole course of the fight 
Gascoyne had acted entirely on the defensive. A small 
knife or stiletto hung at his left side, but he never attempted 
to use it, and he never once tried to throw his adversary. 
In fact it now became evident, even to the widow’s percep¬ 
tions, that the captain was actually playing with her son. 

All along, his countenance, though flushed and eager, 
exhibited no sign of passion. He seemed to act like a 
good-humoured man who had been foolishly assaulted by a 
headstrong boy, and who meant to keep him in play until 
he should tire him out. 

Just then the tinkling of a bell and other sounds of the 
people of the establishment beginning to move about were 
heard outside. Henry noticed this. 

“ Hah!” he exclaimed, in a gasping voice, “ I can at 
least hold you until help comes.” 

Gascoyne heard the sounds also. He said nothing, but 
he brought the strife to a swift termination. For the first 
time he bent his back like a man who exerts himself in 
earnest, and lifted Henry completely off the ground. 
Throwing him on his back, he pressed him down with both 
arms so as to break from his grasp. No human muscles 
could resist the force applied. Slowly but surely the iron 


THE SANDAL-WOOD TRADER 


197 


sinews of Henry’s arms straightened out, and the two were 
soon at arm’s length. 

But even Gascoyne’s strength could not unclasp the 
gripe of the youth’s hands, until he placed his knee upon 
his chest; then, indeed, they were torn away. 

Of course, all this was not done without some violence, 
but it was still plain to the widow that Gascoyne was care¬ 
ful not to hurt his antagonist more than he could help. 

“ Now, Henry, my lad,” said he, holding the youth 
down by the two arms, 11 I have given you a good deal of 
trouble this morning, and I mean to give you a little more. 
It does not just suit me at present to be tried for a pirate, 
so I mean to give you a race. You are reputed one of the 
best runners in the settlement. Well, I’ll give you a 
chance after me. If you overtake me, boy, I’ll give myself 
up to you without a struggle. But I suspect you’ll find 
me rather hard to catch!” 

As he uttered the last words he permitted Henry to rise. 
Ere the youth had quite gained his footing, he gave him a 
violent push and sent him staggering back against the wall. 
When Henry recovered his balance, Gascoyne was standing 
in the open doorway. 

“ Now, lad, are you ready?” said he, a sort of wild smile 
lighting up his face. 

Henry was so taken aback by this conduct, as well as by 
the rough handling which he had just received, that he 
could not collect his thoughts for a few seconds; but when 
Gascoyne nodded gravely to his mother and walked quietly 
away, saying, 11 Good-bye, Mary,” the exasperated youth 
darted through the doorway like an arrow. 

If Henry Stuart’s rush may be compared to the flight of 
an arrow from a bow, not less appropriately may Gascoyne’s 


198 


GASCOYNE 


bound be likened to the leap of the bolt from a cross-bow. 
The two men sprang over the low fences that surrounded 
the cottage, leapt the rivulet that brawled down its steep 
course behind it, and coursed up the hill like mountain 
hares. 

The last that widow Stuart saw of them, as she gazed 
eagerly from the doorway of the hut, was, when Gascoyne’s 
figure was clearly defined against the sky as he leaped over 
a great chasm in the lava high up the mountain side. Henry 
followed almost instantly, and then both were hidden from 
view in the chaos of rocks and gorges that rose above the 
upper line of vegetation. 

It was a long and a severe chase that Henry had under¬ 
taken, and ably did his fleet foot sustain the credit which 
he had already gained. But Gascoyne’s foot was fleeter. 
Over every species of ground did the sandal-wood trader 
lead the youth that day. It seemed, in fact, as if a spirit 
of mischief had taken possession of Gascoyne, for his usu¬ 
ally grave face was lighted up with a mingled expression of 
glee and ferocity. It changed, too, and wore a sad expres¬ 
sion, at times, even when the man seemed to be running for 
his life. 

At last, after running until he had caused Henry to shew 
symptoms of fatigue, Gascoyne turned suddenly round, 
and, shouting “ Good-bye, Henry, my lad!” went straight 
up the mountain and disappeared over the dividing ridge 
on the summit. 

Henry did not give in. The insult implied in the words 
renewed his strength. He tightened his belt as he ran, 
and rushed up the mountain almost as fast as Gascoyne had 
done, but when he leaped upon the ridge the fugitive had 
vanished! 


THE SANDAL-WOOD TRADER 


199 


That he had secreted himself in one of the many gorges 
or caves with which the place abounded was quite clear, but 
it was equally clear that no one could track him out in such 
a place unless he were possessed of a dog’s nose. The 
youth did indeed attempt it, but, being convinced that he 
was only searching for what could not by any possibility be 
found, he soon gave it up and returned, disconsolate and 
crest-fallen, to the cottage. 


200 


GASCOYNE 


CHAPTER XX 

MYSTERIOUS CONSULTATIONS AND PLANS-GASCOYNE 

ASTONISHES HIS FRIENDS, AND MAKES AN UNEXPECTED 
CONFESSION 

“ A pretty morning’s work I have made of it, mother,” 
said Henry, as he flung himself into a chair in the cottage 
parlour, on his return from the weary and fruitless chase 
which has just been recorded. 

The widow was pale and haggard, but she could not help 
smiling as she observed the look of extreme disappointment 
which rested on the countenance of her son. 

“ True, Henry,” she replied, busying herself in pre¬ 
paring breakfast, “ you have not been very successful, but 
you made a noble effort.” 

“ Pshaw! a noble effort, indeed! Why, the man has 
foiled me in the two things in which I prided myself most — 
wrestling and running. I never saw such a greyhound in 
my life.” 

“He is a giant, my boy; few men could hope to over¬ 
come him.” 

“True, as regards wrestling, mother; I am not much 
ashamed of having been beaten by him at that; but run¬ 
ning — that’s the sore point. Such a weight he is, and yet 
he took the north gully like a wild cat, and you know, 
mother, there are only two of us in Sandy Cove who can 
go over that gully. Ay, and he went a full yard farther 
than ever I did. I measured the leap as I came down. 
Really it is too bad to have been beaten so completely by a 


THE SANDAL-WOOD TRADER 


201 


man who must be nearly double my age. But, after all, the 
worst of the whole affair is, that a pirate has escaped me 
after I actually had him in my arms! the villain!” 

“ You do not know that he’s a villain,” said the widow 
in a subdued tone. 

“ You are right, mother,” said Henry, looking up from 
the plate of bacon, to which he had been devoting himself 
with much assiduity, and gazing earnestly into his mother’s 
face; 11 you are right, and, do you know, I feel inclined to 
give the fellow the benefit of the doubt, for to tell you the 
truth I have a sort of liking for him. If it had not been 
for the way in which he has treated you, and the suspicious 
character that he bears, I do believe I should have made a 
friend of him.” 

A look of evident pleasure crossed the widow’s face while 
her son spoke, but as that son’s eyes were once more riveted 
on the bacon, which his morning exercise rendered pecu¬ 
liarly attractive, he did not observe it. 

Just then the door opened, and Mr. Mason entered. His 
face wore a dreadfully anxious expression. 

“ Ha! I’m glad to see you, Henry,” said he; “ of course 
you have not caught your man. I have been waiting 
anxiously for you to consult about our future proceedings. 
It is quite evident that the pirate schooner cannot be far 
off. Gascoyne must either have swam ashore, or been 
landed in a boat. In either case the schooner must have 
been within the reef at the time, and there has been little 
wind since the squall blew itself out yesterday.” 

“ Quite enough, however, to blow such a light craft 
pretty far out to sea in a few hours,” said Henry, shaking 
his head. 

“ No matter,” replied Mr. Mason, with a sigh, “ some - 


202 


GASCOYNE 


thing must be done at any rate. I have borrowed the car¬ 
penter’s small cutter, which is being now put in order for a 
voyage. Provisions and water for a few days are already 
on board, and I have come to ask you to take command of 
her, as you know something of navigation. I will go, of 
course, but will not take any management of the little 
craft, as I know nothing about the working of vessels.” 

“ And where do you mean to go?” asked Henry. 

“ That remains to be seen. I have some ideas running 
in my head, of course, but before letting you know them I 
wish to hear what you would advise.” 

“ I would advise, in the first place, that you should pro¬ 
vide one or two thorough sailors to manage the craft. By 
the way, that reminds me of Bumpus. What of him? 
where is he? In the midst of all this bustle I have not had 
time for much thought, and it has only just occurred to me 
that if this schooner is really a pirate, and if Gascoyne turns 
out to be Durward, it follows that Bumpus is a pirate too, 
and ought to be dealt with accordingly.” 

“ I have thought of that,” said Mr. Mason, with a per¬ 
plexed look, ” and intended to speak to you on the subject, 
but events have crowded so fast upon each other of late 
that it has been driven out of my mind. No doubt, if the 
Foam and the Avenger are one and the same vessel, as 
seems too evident to leave much room for doubt, then Bum¬ 
pus is a pirate, for he does not deny that he was one of the 
crew. But he acts strangely for a pirate. He seems as 
much at his ease amongst us as if he were the most innocent 
of men. Moreover, his looks seem to stamp him a thor¬ 
oughly honest fellow. But, alas! one cannot depend on 
looks.” 

“ But where is the man?” asked Henry. 


THE SANDAL-WOOD TRADER 


203 


“ He is asleep in the small closet off the kitchen,” said Mrs. 
Stuart, “ where he has been lying ever since you returned 
from the heathen village. Poor fellow, he sleeps heavily, 
and looks as if he had been hurt during all this fighting.” 

“ Hurt! say you?” exclaimed Henry, laughing; “it is a 
miracle that he is now alive after the flight he took over the 
north cliff into the sea.” 

“ Flight! over the north cliff!” echoed Mrs. Stuart in 
surprise. 

“ Ay, and a fearful plunge he had.” Here Henry de¬ 
tailed poor Jo’s misadventure. “ And now,” said he, 
when he had finished, “ I must lock his door and keep him 
in. The settlers have forgotten him in all this turmoil; 
but depend upon it if they see him they will string him up 
for a pirate to the first handy branch of a tree without giv¬ 
ing him the benefit of a trial, and that would not be desira¬ 
ble.” 

“ Yet you would have shot Gascoyne on mere suspicion 
without a thought of trial or justice,” said Mrs. Stuart. 

“ True, mother, but that was when I was seizing him, 
and in hot blood,” said Henry, in a subdued voice. “ I 
was hasty there, no doubt. Lucky for us both that the 
pistol missed fire.” 

The widow looked as if she were about to reply, but 
checked herself. 

“ Yes,” said Mr. Mason, recurring to the former subject, 
“ as we shall be away a few days, we must lock Bumpus 
up to keep him out of harm’s way. Meanwhile-” 

The missionary was interrupted here by the sudden open, 
ing of the door. An exclamation of surprise burst from 
the whole party as they sprang up, for Gascoyne strode into 
the room, locked the door, and taking out the key handed 



204 


GASCOYNE 


it to Henry, who stood staring at him in speechless amaze¬ 
ment. 

“You are surprised to see me appear thus suddenly,” 
said he, “ but the fact is that I came here this morning to 
fulfil a duty; and although Master Henry there has hin¬ 
dered me somewhat in carrying out my good intentions, I 
do not intend to allow him to frustrate me altogether.” 

“ I do not mean to make a second attempt, Gascoyne, 
after what has occurred this morning,” said Henry, seating 
himself doggedly on his chair. “But it would be as well 
that you should observe that Mr. Mason is a stout man, 
and, as we have seen, can act vigorously when occasion 
offers. Remember that we are two to one now.” 

“ There will be no occasion for vigorous action, at least 
as regards me, if you will agree to forget your suspicions 
for a few minutes, and listen to what I have got to say. 
Meanwhile, in order to shew you how thoroughly in earnest 
I am, and how regardless of my personal safety, I render 
myself defenceless — thus.” 

Gascoyne pulled a brace of small pistols from their place 
of concealment beneath the breast of his shirt, and, drawing 
the knife that hung at his girdle, hurled them all through 
the open window into the garden. He then took a chair, 
planted it in the middle of the room, and sat down. The 
sadness of his deep voice did not change during the re¬ 
mainder of that interview. The bold look which usually 
characterised this peculiar man had given place to a grave 
expression of humility, which was occasionally varied by a 
troubled look. 

“ Before stating what I have come for,” said Gascoyne, 
“ I mean to make a confession. You have been right in 
your suspicions — I am Durward the piratel Nay, do not 


THE SANDAL-WOOD TRADER 


205 


shrink from me in that way, Mary. I have kept this secret 
from you long, because I feared to lose the old friendship 
that has existed between us since we were children. I have 
deceived you in this thing only. I have taken advantage 
of your ignorance to make you suppose that I was merely 
a smuggler, and that, in consequence of being an outlaw, it 
was necessary for me to conceal my name and my move¬ 
ments. You have kept my secret, Mary, and have tried to 
win me back to honest ways, but you little knew the 
strength of the net I had wrapped around me. You did 
not know that I was a pirate!” 

Gascoyne paused, and bent his head as if in thought. 
The widow sat with clasped hands, gazing at him with a 
look of despair on her pale face. But she did not move or 
speak. The three listeners sat in perfect silence until the 
pirate chose to continue his confession. 

11 Yes, I have been a pirate,” said he, “ but I have not 
been the villain that men have painted me.” He looked 
steadily in the widow’s face as he said these words deliber¬ 
ately. 

“ Do not try to palliate your conduct, Gascoyne,” said 
Mr. Mason, earnestly. “ The blackness of your sin is too 
great to be deepened or lightened by what men may have 
said of you. You are a pirate. Every pirate is a mur¬ 
derer.” 

11 I am not a murderer” said Gascoyne slowly, in reply, 
but still fixing his gaze on the widow’s face, as if he addressed 
himself solely to her. 

“ You may not have committed murder with your own 
hand,” said Mr. Mason, “ but the man who leads on others 
to commit the crime is a murderer in the eye of God’s law 
as well as in that of man.” 


206 


GASCOYNE 


“ I never led on men to commit murder,” said Gascoyne, 
in the same tone and with the same steadfast gaze. “ This 
hand is free from the stain of human blood. Do you be¬ 
lieve me, Mary?” 

The widow did not answer. She sat like one bereft of 
all power of speech or motion. 

“ I will explain,” resumed the pirate captain, drawing a 
long breath, and directing his looks to Henry now. 

“ For reasons which it is not necessary that you should 
know, I resolved some years ago to become a pirate. I had 
been deceived — shamefully deceived and wronged — by 
wealthy and powerful men. I had appealed to the law of 
my country, and the law refused to right me. No, not the 
law, but those who sat on the judgment-seat to pervert the 
law. It matters not now; I was driven mad at the time, 
for the wrong done was not done so much to me as to those 
whom I loved. I vowed that I should be avenged. 

“ I soon found men as mad as myself who only wanted a 
leader to guide them in order to run full swing to destruc¬ 
tion. I seized the Foam , of which schooner I was mate, 
called her the Avenger, and became a pirate. No blood 
was shed when I seized the schooner. Before an oppor¬ 
tunity occurred of trying my hand at this new profession, 
my anger had cooled. I repented of what I had done, but 
I was surrounded by men who were more bent on mischief 
than I was. I could not now draw back, but I modified 
my plan. I determined to become merely a robber , and use 
the proceeds of my trade to indemnify those to whom in¬ 
justice had been done. I thought at the time that there 
was some justice in this. I called myself, in jest, a tax 
gatherer of the sea. I ordered the men aft one day and 
explained to them my views. I said that I abhorred the 


THE SANDAL-WOOD TRADER 


207 


name and the deeds of pirates, that I would only consent 
to command them if they agreed never to shed human 
blood except in fair and open fight. 

“ They liked the idea. There were men among them 
who had never heartily agreed to the seizing of the schooner, 
and who would have left her if I would have allowed them 4 ; 
these were much relieved to hear my proposal. It was 
fixed that we should rob , but not murder. Miserable fool 
that I was! I thought it was possible to go just so far and 
no farther into sin. I did not know at that time the 
strength of the fearful current into which I had plunged. 

“ But we stuck to our principles. We never did commit 
murder. And as our appearance was always sufficient to 
cause the colours of any ship we ever came across to be 
hauled down at once, there has been no occasion for shed¬ 
ding blood, even in fair and open fight. Do you believe 
me, Mary?” said Gascoyne, pausing at this point. 

The widow was still silent, but a slight inclination of her 
head satisfied the pirate, who was about to resume, when 
Mr. Mason said — “ Gascoyne, do you call warfare in the 
cause of robbery by the name of 1 fair and open fight?’ ” 

“ No, I do not. Yet there have been great generals and 
admirals in this world who have committed wholesale mur¬ 
der in this same cause, and whose names stand high in the 
roll of fame!” 

A look of scorn rested on the pirate’s face as he said this, 
but it passed away quickly. 

“ You tell me that there were some of the men in the 
schooner whom you kept aboard against their will?” said 
Mr. Mason. “ Did it never occur to you, Gascoyne, that 
you may have been the murderer of the souls of these men?” 

The pirate made no reply for some time, and the troubled 


208 


GASCOYNE 


anxious look that had more than once crossed his face 
returned. 

“ Yes,” said he at length, “ I have thought of that. But 
it is done now and cannot be undone. I can do no more 
now than give myself up to justice. You see, I have 
thrown away my arms and stand here defenceless. But I 
did not come here to plead for mercy. I come to make to 
you all the reparation I can for the wrong I have done you. 
When that last act is completed, you may do with me what 
you please. I deserve to die, and I care not to live.” 

“ O Gascoyne, speak not thus,” exclaimed the widow, 
earnestly. “ However much and deeply you have sinned 
against man, if you have not taken life you do not deserve 
to die. Besides, there is a way of pardon open to the very 
chief of sinners.” 

“ I know what you mean, Mary, I know what you mean; 

but-well, well, this is neither the time nor place to 

talk of such things. Your little girl, Mr. Mason, is in the 
hands of the pirates.” 

“ I know that,” said the missionary, wincing as if he 
had received a deep wound, “ but she is not in your power 
now.” 

“ More’s the pity; she would have been safer with me 
than with my first mate, who is the greatest villain afloat 
on the high seas. He does not like our milk-and-water 
style of robbing. He is an out-and-out pirate in heart, and 
has long desired to cut my throat. I have to thank him 
for being here to-night. Some of the crew who are like 
himself seized me while I was asleep, bound and gagged 
me, put me into a boat and rowed me ashore; — for we had 
easily escaped the Talisman in the squall, and doubling on 
our course came back here. The mate was anxious to clear 


V 


THE SANDAL-WOOD TRADER 


209 


off old scores by cutting my throat at once and pitching me 
into the sea. Luckily some of the men, not so bloodthirsty 
as he, objected to this, so I was landed and cast loose.” 

“ But what of Alice?” cried Mr. Mason, anxiously. 
“ How can we save her?” 

“ By taking my advice,” answered Gascoyne. “ You 
have a small cutter at anchor off the creek at the foot of 
the hill. Put a few trusty men aboard of her, and I will 
guide you to the island where the Avenger has been wont 
to fly when hard pressed.” 

“ But how do you know that Manton will go there?” 
inquired Henry, eagerly. 

“ Because he is short of powder, and all our stores are 
concealed there, besides much of our ill-gotten wealth.” 

“ And how can you expect us to put ourselves so com¬ 
pletely in your power?” said Mr. Mason. 

“ Because you must do so if you would save your child. 
She is safe now, I know, and will be until the Avenger 
leaves the island where our stores are concealed. If we 
do not save her before that happens, she is lost to you for 
ever I ” 

" May we trust him, mother?” said Henry. 

“You may trust him, my son,” replied the widow, in a 
tone of decision that satisfied Henry, while it called forth 
a look of gratitude from the pirate. 

The party now proceeded to arrange the details of their 
plan for the rescue of Alice and her companions. These 
were speedily settled, and Henry rose to go and put them 
in train. He turned the key of the door and was on the 
point of lifting the latch, when this was done for him by 
some one on the outside. He had just time to step back 


210 


GASCOYNE 


when the door flew open, and he stood face to face with 
Hugh Barnes the cooper. 

“ Have you heard the news, Henry? — hallo!” 

This abrupt exclamation was caused by the sight of Gas¬ 
coyne, who rose quietly the moment he heard the door 
open, and, turning his back towards it, walked slowly into 
a small apartment that opened off the widow’s parlour, and 
shut the door. 

“ I say, Henry, who’s that big fellow?” said the cooper, 
casting a suspicious glance towards the little room into 
which he had disappeared. 

11 He is a friend of mine,” replied Mrs. Stuart, rising 
hastily, and welcoming her visitor. 

“ Humph! it’s as well he’s a. friend ” said the man as he 
took a chair, “ I shouldn’t like to have him for an enemy.” 

“ But what is the news you were so anxious to tell us?” 
inquired Henry. 

“ That Gascoyne, the pirate captain, has been seen on 
the island by some of the women, and there’s a regular 
hunt organising. Will you go with us?” 

“ I have more important work to do, Hugh,” replied 
Henry, “ besides, I want you to go with me on a hunt 
which I’ll tell you about if you’ll come with me to the 
creek.” 

“ By all means, come along.” 

Henry and the cooper at once left the cottage. The 
latter was let into the secret, and prevailed on to form one 
of the crew of the Wasp , as the little cutter was named. 
In the course of the afternoon everything was in readiness. 
Gascoyne waited till the dusk of the evening, and then 
embarked along with Ole Thorwald; that stout individual 
having insisted on being one of the party, despite the re- 


THE SANDAL-WOOD TRADER 


211 


monstrances of Mr. Mason, who did not like to leave the 
settlement, even for a brief period, so completely deprived 
of all its leading men. But Ole entertained a suspicion 
that Gascoyne intended to give them the slip; and having 
privately made up his mind to prevent this he was not to 
be denied. 

The men who formed the crew — twelve in number — 
were selected from among those natives and settlers who 
were known never to have seen the pirate captain. They 
were chosen with a view to their fighting qualities, for 
Gascoyne and Henry were sufficient for the management 
of the little craft. There were no large guns on board, but 
all the men were well armed with cutlasses, muskets, and 
pistols. 

Thus equipped, the Wasp stood out to sea with a light 
breeze, just as the moon rose on the coral reef and cast a 
shower of sparkling silver across the bay. 


212 


GASCOYNE 


CHAPTER XXI 

A TERRIBLE DOOM FOR AN INNOCENT MAN 

“ So you’re to be hanged for a pirate, Jo Bumpus, ye 
are — that’s pleasant to think of anyhow.” 

Such was the remark which our stout seaman addressed 
to himself when he awoke on the second morning after the 
departure of the Wasp. If the thought was really as pleas¬ 
ant as he asserted it to be, his visage must have been a bad 
index to the state of his mind; for at that particular moment 
Jo looked uncommonly miserable. 

The wonted good-humoured expression of his counte¬ 
nance had given place to a gaze of stereotyped surprise and 
solemnity. Indeed Bumpus seemed to have parted with 
much of his reason and all of his philosophy, for he could 
say nothing else during at least half-an-hour after awaking 
except the phrase — “ So, you’re going to be hanged for a 
pirate.” His comments on the phrase were, however, a 
little varied, though always brief — such as — “ Wot a sell! 
Who’d ha’ thought it! It’s a dream, it is, an ’orrible dream! 
I don’t believe it — who does? Wot’ll your poor mother 
say?” — and the like. 

Bumpus had, unfortunately, good grounds for making 
this statement. 

After the cutter sailed it was discovered that Bumpus was 
concealed in Mrs. Stuart’s cottage. This discovery had 
been the result of the seaman’s own recklessness and indis¬ 
cretion; for when he ascertained that he was to be kept a 


THE SANDAL-WOOD TRADER 


213 


prisoner in the cottage until the return of the Wasp, he at 
once made up his mind to submit with a good grace to 
what could not be avoided. In order to prove that he was 
by no means cast down, as well as to lighten the tedium of 
his confinement, Jo entertained himself by singing snatches 
of sea songs — such as, “ My tight little craft,” — “A life 
on the stormy sea,” — “ Oh! for a draught of the howling 
blast,” etc., all of which he delivered in a bass voice so 
powerful that it caused the rafters of the widow’s cottage 
to ring again. 

These melodious not to say thunderous sounds, also 
caused the ears of a small native youth to tingle with curios¬ 
ity. This urchin crept on his brown little knees under 
the window of Bumpus’s apartment, got on his brown 
and dirty little tiptoes, placed his brown little hands on the 
sill, hauled his brown and half-naked little body up by 
sheer force of muscle, and peeped into the room with his 
large and staring brown eyes, the whites of which were 
displayed to their full extent. 

Jo was in the middle of an enthusiastic “oh!” when the 
urchin’s head appeared. Instead of expressing his pas¬ 
sionate desire for a “ draught of the howling blast,” he 
prolonged the “oh!” into a hideous yell, and thrust his 
blazing face close to the window so suddenly that the boy 
let go his hold, fell backwards, and rolled head over heels 
into a ditch, out of which he scrambled with violent haste, 
and ran with the utmost possible precipitancy to his native 
home on the sea-shore. 

Here he related what he had seen to his father. The 
father went and looked in upon Jo’s solitude. He happened 
to have seen Bumpus during the great fight and knew him 
to be one of the pirates. The village rose en masse. Some 


214 


GASCOYNE 


of the worst characters in it stirred up the rest, went to 
the widow’s cottage, and demanded that the person of the 
pirate should be delivered up. 

The widow objected. The settlers insisted. The widow 
protested. The settlers threatened force. Upon this the 
widow reasoned with them; besought them to remember 
that the missionary would be back in a day or two, and that 
it would be well to have his advice before they did any¬ 
thing, and finally agreed to give up her charge on receiving 
a promise that he should have a fair trial. 

Bumpus was accordingly bound with ropes, led in tri¬ 
umph through the village, and placed in a strong wooden 
building which was used as the jail of the place. 

The trial that followed was a mere mockery. The lead¬ 
ing spirits of it were those who had been styled by Mr. 
Mason, “ enemies within the camp.” They elected them¬ 
selves to the offices of prosecutor and judge as well as tak¬ 
ing the trouble to act the part of jurymen and witnesses. 

Poor John Bumpus’s doom was sealed before the trial 
began. They had prejudged the case, and only went 
through the form to ease their own consciences and to ful¬ 
fil their promise to the widow. 

It was in vain that Bumpus asserted, with a bold, honest 
countenance, that he was not a pirate; that he never had 
been and never would be a pirate; that he did not believe 
the Foam was a pirate — though he was free to confess its 
crew “ wos bad enough for anything a’most”; that he had 
been hired in San Francisco by Captain Gascoyne, that he 
had made the voyage straight from that coast to this island 
without meeting a single sail; and that he had never seen 
a shot fired or a cutlass drawn aboard the schooner. 

To all this there was but one coarsely-expressed answer — 


THE SANDAL-WOOD TRADER 


215 


“ It is a lie!” Jo had no proof to give of the truth of what 
he said, so he was condemned to be hanged by the neck 
till he should be dead; and, as his judges were alraid that 
the return of the Wasp might interfere with their proceed¬ 
ings, it was arranged that he should be executed on the 
following day at noon. 

It must not be imagined that, in a Christian village such 
as we have described, there was no one who felt that this 
trial was too hastily gone into, and too violently conducted. 
But those who were inclined to take a merciful view of the 
case, and who pled for delay, were chiefly natives, while 
the violent party was composed of most of the ill-disposed 
European settlers. 

The natives had been so much accustomed to put confi¬ 
dence in the wisdom of the white men since their conver¬ 
sion to Christianity, that they felt unable to cope with 
them on this occasion, so that Bumpus, after being con¬ 
demned, was led away to his prison, and left alone to his 
own reflections. 

It chanced that there was one friend left, unintention¬ 
ally, in the cell with the condemned man. This was none 
other than our friend Toozle, the mass of ragged door-mat 
on which Alice doted so fondly. This little dog had, during 
the course of the events which have taken so long to re¬ 
count, done nothing worthy of being recorded. He had, 
indeed, been much in every one’s way, when no one had 
had time or inclination to take notice of him. He had, 
being an affectionate dog and desirous of much sympathy, 
courted attention frequently, and had received many kicks 
and severe rebuffs for his pains, and he had also, being a 
tender-hearted dog, howled dreadfully when he lost his 
young mistress; but he had not in any way promoted the 


216 


GASCOYNE 


interests of humanity or advanced the ends of justice. 
Hence our long silence in regard to him. 

Recollecting that he had witnessed evidences of a friendly 
relation subsisting between Alice and Bumpus, Toozle 
straightway sought to pour the overflowing love and sorrow 
of his large little heart into the bosom of that supposed 
pirate. His advances were well received, and from that 
hour he followed the seaman like his shadow. He shared 
his prison with him, trotted behind him when he walked 
up and down his room in the widow’s cottage; lay down at 
his feet when he rested; looked up inquiringly in his face 
when he paused to meditate; whined and wagged his stump 
of a tail when he was taken notice of, and lay down to sleep 
in deep humility when he was neglected. 

Thus it came to pass that Toozle attended the trial of 
Bumpus, entered his cell along with him, slept with him 
during the night, accompanied him to the gallows in the 
morning, and sat under him, when they were adjusting the 
noose, looking up with feelings of unutterable dismay, as 
was clearly indicated by the lugubrious and woe-begone 
cast of his ragged countenance — but we are anticipating. 

It was on the morning of his execution that Bumpus sat 
on the edge of his hard pallet, gazed at his manacled wrists, 
and gave vent to the sentiments set down at the beginning 
of this chapter. 

Toozle sat at his feet looking up in his face sympatheti¬ 
cally. 

“ No, I don't believe it’s possible,” said Bumpus, for at 
least the hundredth time that morning. “ It’s a joke, 
that’s wot it is. Ain’t it, Toozle, my boy?” 

Toozle whined, wagged his tail, and said, as plainly as if 
he had spoken, “ Yes, of course it is — an uncommonly bad 


THE SANDAL-WOOD TRADER 


217 


joke, no doubt; but a joke, undoubtedly; so keep up your 
heart, my man.” 

“Ah! you’re a funny dog,” continued Bumpus, “but 
you don’t know wot it is to be hanged, my boy. Hanged! 
why it’s agin all laws o’ justice, moral an’ otherwise, it is. 
But I’m dreamin’, yes, it’s dreamin’ I am — but I don’t 
think I ever did dream that I thought I was dreamin’ an’ 
yet wasn’t quite sure. Really it’s perplexin’, to say the 
least on it. Ain’t it, Toozle?” 

Toozle wagged his tail. 

“ Ah, here comes my imaginary jailer to let me out o’ 
this here abominably real-lookin’ imaginary lock-up. Hang 
Jo Bumpus! why it’s-” 

Before Jo could find words sufficiently strong to express 
his opinion of such a murderous intention, the door opened 
and a surly-looking man — a European settler — entered 
with his breakfast. This meal consisted of a baked bread¬ 
fruit and a can of water. 

“ Ha! you’ve come to let me out, have you?” cried Jo, 
in a tone of forced pleasantry, which was anything but 
cheerful. 

“ Have I, though!” said the man, setting down the food 
on a small deal table that stood at the head of the bedstead; 
“ don’t think it, my man; your time’s up in another two 
hours — hallo! where got ye the dog?” 

“It came in with me last night — to keep me company, I 
fancy, which is more than the human dogs o’ this murderin’ 
place had the civility to do.” 

“ If it had know’d you was a murderin’ pirate,” retorted 
the jailer, “ it would ha’ thought twice before it would ha’ 
chose you for a comrade.” 



218 


GASCOYNE 


“ Come, now,” said Bumpus, in a remonstrative tone, 
“ you don’t really b’lieve I’m a pirate, do you?” 

“ In coorse I do.” 

“ Well, now, that’s xtraor’nary. Does everybody else 
think that too?” 

“ Everybody.” 

“ An’ am I really goin’ to be hanged?” 

“ Till you’re dead as mutton.” 

“ That’s entertainin’, ain’t it, Toozle?” cried poor Bum- 
pus with a laugh of desperation, for he found it utterly 
impossible to persuade himself to believe in the reality of 
his awful position. 

As he said nothing more, the jailer went away, and Bum- 
pus, after heaving two or three very deep sighs, attempted 
to partake of his meagre breakfast. The effort was a vain 
one. The bite stuck in his throat, so he washed it down 
with a gulp of water, and, for the first time in his life, made 
up his mind to go without his breakfast. 

A little before twelve o’clock the door again opened, and 
the surly jailer entered bearing a halter, and accompanied 
by six stout men. The irons were now removed from Bum- 
pus’s wrists, and his arms pinioned behind his back. Being 
almost stupefied with amazement at his position, he sub¬ 
mitted without a struggle. 

“ I say, friends,” he at last exclaimed, “ would any 
amount of oaths took before a maginstrate convince ye that 
I’m not a pirate, but a true-blue seaman?” 

“ If you were to swear from this time till doomsday it 
would make no difference. You admit that you were one 
of the Foam's crew. We now know that the Foam and the 
Avenger are the same schooner. Birds of a feather flock 


THE SANDAL-WOOD TRADER 


219 


together. A pirate would swear anything to save his life. 
Come, time’s up.” 

Bumpus bent his head for a minute. The truth forced 
itself upon him now in all its dread reality. But no un¬ 
manly terrors filled his breast at that moment. The fear 
of man or of violent death was a sensation which the sea¬ 
man never knew. The feeling of the huge injustice that 
was about to be done filled him with generous indignation; 
the blood rushed to his temples, and, with a bound like a 
tiger, he leaped out of the jailer’s grasp, hurling him to the 
ground in the act. 

With the strength almost of a Samson he wrestled with 
his cords for a few seconds; but they were new and strong. 
He failed to burst them. In another moment he was over¬ 
powered by the six men who guarded him. True to his 
principles, he did his utmost to escape. Strong in the 
faith that while there is life there is hope, he did not cease 
to struggle, like a chained giant, until he was placed under 
the limb of the fatal tree which had been selected, and 
round which an immense crowd of natives and white settlers 
had gathered. 

During the previous night the widow Stuart had striven 
to save the man whom she knew to be honest, for Gascoyne 
had explained to her all about his being engaged in his 
service. But those to whom she appealed, even on her 
knees, were immovable. They considered the proof of the 
man’s guilt quite conclusive, and regarded the widow’s 
intercession as the mere weakness of a tender-hearted 
woman. 

On the following morning, and again beside the fatal 
tree itself, the widow pled for the man’s life with all her 
powers of eloquence, but in vain. When all hope appeared 


220 


GASCOYNE 


to have passed away, she could not stand to witness so 
horrible a murder. She fled to her cottage, and, throwing 
herself on her bed, burst into an agony of tears and prayer. 

But there were some among the European settlers there 
who, now that things had come to a point, felt ill at ease, 
and would fain have washed their hands of the whole affair. 
Others there were who judged the man from his counte¬ 
nance and his acts, not from circumstances. These remon¬ 
strated even to the last, and advised delay. But the half 
dozen who were set upon the man’s death — not to gratify 
a thirst for blood, but to execute due justice on a pirate 
whom they abhorred — were influential and violent men. 
They silenced all opposition at last, and John Bumpus 
finally had the noose put round his neck. 

“ O Susan, Susan,” cried the poor man in an agony of 
intense feeling, “ it’s little ye thought your Jo would come 
to such an end as this when ye last sot eyes on him — an’ 
sweet blue eyes they wos, too!” 

There was something ludicrous as well as pathetic in this 
cry. It did more for him than the most eloquent pleading 
could have done. Man, in a crowd, is an unstable being. 
At any moment he will veer right round and run in an 
opposite direction. The idea that the condemned man had 
a Susan who would mgurn over his untimely end, touched 
a cord in the hearts of many among the crowd. The refer¬ 
ence to her sweet blue eyes at such a moment raised a smile, 
and an extremely dismal but opportune howl from poor 
Toozle raised a laugh. 

Bumpus started and looked sternly on the crowd. 

“You may think me a pirate,” said he, “ but I know 
enough of the feelin’s of honest men to expect no mercy 
from those wot can laugh at a fellow-creetur in such an 


THE SANDAL-WOOD TRADER 


221 


hour. You had better get the murder over as soon as ye 
can. I am ready— Stay! one moment more. I had 
a’most forgot it. There’s a letter here that I want one o’ 
you to take charge of. It’s the last I ever got from my 
Susan, an’ if I had taken her advice to let alone havin’ to 
do with all sandal-wood traders, I’d never ha’ bin in such a 
fix as I am this day. I want it sent back to her with my 
blessin’ and a lock o’ my hair. Is there an honest man 
among ye who’ll take in hand to do this for me?” 

As he spoke, a young man, in a costume somewhat re¬ 
sembling that of a sailor, pushed through the crowd, leaped 
upon the deal table on which Jo stood, and removed the 
noose from his neck. 

An exclamation of anger burst from those who sur¬ 
rounded the table, but a sound something like applause 
broke from the crowd, and restrained any attempt at vio¬ 
lence. The young man at the same time held up his hand 
and asked leave to address them. 

“ Ay! ay! let’s hear what he has got to say. That’s it; 
speak up, Dan!” 

The youth, whose dark olive complexion proclaimed him 
to be a half-caste, and whose language shewed that he had 
received at least the rudiments of education, stretched out 
his hand and said — 

“ Friends, I do not stand here to interfere with justice. 
Those who seek to give a pirate his just reward do well. 
But there has been doubt in the minds of some that this 
man may not be a pirate. His own word is of no value; 
but if I can bring forward anything to shew that perhaps 
his word is true, then we have no right to hang him till 
we have given him a longer trial.” 


222 


GASCOYNE 


“ Hear! hear!” from the white men in the crowd, and 
“ Ho! ho!” from the natives. 

Meanwhile the young man, or Dan, as some one called 
him, turned to Bumpus and asked for the letter to which 
he had referred. Being informed that it was in the inside 
pocket of his jacket, the youth put his hand in and drew it 
forth. 

“ May I read it? Your life may depend on what I find 
here.” 

“ Sartinly, by all manner of means,” replied Jo, not a 
little surprised at the turn affairs were taking. 

Dan opened and perused the epistle for a few minutes, 
during which intense silence was mantained in the crowd, 
as if they expected to hear the thoughts of the young man 
as they passed through his brain. 

“ Ha! I thought so,” exclaimed Dan looking up and 
again addressing the crowd. “ At the trial yesterday you 
heard this man say that he was engaged at San Francisco 
by Gascoyne on the twelfth of April last, and that he be¬ 
lieved the schooner to be a sandal-wood trader when he 
shipped.” 

“ Yes, yes, ho!” from the crowd. 

“If this statement of his be true, then he was not a 
pirate when he shipped, and he has not had much time to 
become one between that time and this. The letter which 
I hold in my hand proves the truth of this statement. It is 
dated San Francisco, eleventh April , and is written in a 
female hand. Listen, I will read it, and you shall judge 
for yourselves.” 

The young man then read the following letter, which, 
being a peculiar as well as an interesting specimen of a 
love-letter, we give verbatim et literatim: — 


THE SANDAL-WOOD TRADER 


223 


‘For 

John bumpuss, 
aboord the Skhooner fome 


“ Peelers farm near 

Sanfransko Aprile 11. 


“ my darlin Jo, 

“ ever sins you towld me yisterday that youd bin an 
gaged yerself into the fome, my mind has bin Onaisy. Ye 
no, darlint, from the our ye cald me yer own Susan — in 
clare county More betoken — iv bin onaisy about ye yer 
so bowld an Rekles. but this is wurst ov all. iv no noshun 
o them sandlewood skooners. the Haf ov thems pirits an 
The other hafs no beter. whats wos is that my owld mas¬ 
ter was drownded in wan, or out o wan, but shure its All 
the Saim. down he wint an that wos the Endd. 

“ now Deer jo dont go to say in that skooner i beseech 
ye, jo. ye towld me that ye liked the looks o the cappen 
an haited the looks o the Krew. Now deer, take warnin, 
think ov me. think ov the words in the coppie book weev 
writ so often together at owld makmahons skool, eevil 
cmunishakens Krupt yer maners, i misremember it, but ye 
no wot id be say in’ to ye. 

“ o jo Dont go, but cum an see me as soon as iver ye can 

“ yours til deth. 

“ Susan ” 


“ p. s. the piggs is quite livly but ther not so hansum heer 
as in the owld country, dont forgit to rite to your susan.” 


No one can conceive the indignation that swelled the 
broad chest of honest John Bumpus when he listened to the 
laughter with which some parts of this letter were received. 

“Now,” said Dan, “ could any man want better proof 
than this that John Bumpus is not a pirate /” 


224 GASCOYNE 

This question was answered by a perfect yell from the 
crowd. 

“ Set him free; cut his cords!” cried a voice. 

“ Stop, friends,” cried a big coarse-looking man, leaping 
on the table and jostling Dan out of the way. “ Not quite 
so fast. I don’t pretend to be a learned feller, and I can’t 
make a speech with a buttery tongue like Dan here. But 
wot I’ve got to say is — Justice for ever!” 

“ Hurrah!” from some of the wild spirits of the crowd. 
“ Go on, Burke,” from others. 

“ Yes, wot I say is — Justice for ever! Fair play an’ no 
favour; that's wot I say!” 

Another cheer greeted the bold assertion of these noble 
sentiments. 

“ Now, here it is,” continued Burke, becoming much 
excited, “ wot’s to hinder that there letter bein’ a forgery? 
— ay, that’s the word, a forgery? (Hear! hear!) got up a- 
purpose to bamboozle us chaps that ain’t lawyers. D’ye 
see?” 

Burke glanced at Dan and smote his thigh triumphantly 
as he said this. 

“It does not look like a forgery,” said Dan, holding up 
the letter and pointing to the writing. “ I leave it to your¬ 
selves to say if it sounds like a forgery-” 

“ I don’t care a farthin’ dip for yer looks and sounds'' 
cried Burke, interrupting the other. “No man is goin’ for to 
tell me that anybody can trust to looks and sounds. Why, 
I’ve know’d the greatest villain that ever chewed the end 
of a smuggled cigar look as innocent as the babe unborn. 
An’ is there a man here wot’ll tell me heTiasn’t often an’ 
over again mistook the crack of a big gun for a clap o’ 
thunder?” 



THE SANDAL-WOOD TRADER 


225 


This was received with much approval by the crowd, 
which had evidently more than half-forgotten the terrible 
purpose for which it had assembled there, and was now 
much interested in what bade fair to be a keen dispute. 
When the noise abated, Dan raised his voice and said — 

“ If Burke had not interrupted me, I was going to have 
said that another thing which proves the letter to be no 
forgery is, that the post-mark of San Francisco is on the 
back of it, with the date all right.” 

This statement delighted the crowd immensely, and 
caused Burke to look disconcerted for a few seconds; he 
rallied, however, and returned to the charge. 

“ Post-marks! wot do I care for post-marks? Can’t a 
man forge a post-mark as easy as any other mark?” 

“ Ah! that’s true,” from a voice in the crowd. 

“ No, not so easily as any other mark,” retorted Dan, 
“ for it’s made with a kind of ink that’s not sold in shops. 
Everything goes to prove that the letter is no forgery. But, 
Mr. Burke, will you answer me this — if it was a forgery, got 
up for the purpose of saving this man’s life, at what time 
was it forged? for Bumpus could not know that he would 
ever need such a letter until yesterday afternoon, and be¬ 
tween that time and this there was but little time to forge 
a letter from San Francisco, post-mark and all, and make it 
soiled and worn at the edges like an old letter. (‘ Hear!’ 
and sensation.) More than that,” cried Dan, waxing eager 
and earnest, “if it was a forgery, got up for this purpose, 
why was it not produced at the trial? (‘ Hear! hear! ’ and 
cheers!) And, last of all, why, if this forgery was so impor¬ 
tant to him, did John Bumpus forget all about it until 
he stood on this table; ay, until the rope was round his 
neck?" 


226 


GASCOYNE 


A perfect storm of cheers and applause followed this last 
sentence, in the midst of which there were cries of “ You’re 
floored, Burke! Hurrah for Bumpus! Cut the ropes!” 

But although John’s life was now safe, his indignation at 
Susan’s letter having been laughed at was not altogether 
allayed. 

“ I’ll tell ye wot it is,” said he, the instant there was a 
lull in the uproar of voices. “If you think that I’ll stand 
here and see my Susan’s letter insulted before my eyes, 
you’re very far out o’ your reckoning. Just cut them ropes 
an’ put any two o’ ye’r biggest men, black or white, before 
me , an’ if I don’t shew them a lot o’ new stars as hasn’t 
been seed in no sky wotiver since Adam was a little boy, 
my name’s-” 

Up to this point Jo was heard, but the conclusion of his 
defiance was drowned in roars of laughter. 

“ Cut the ropes,” shouted the crowd. 

Dan drew a clasp-knife from his pocket, and with one 
stroke set Bumpus free. 

“ Shoulder high,” yelled a voice; “ hurrah!” 

A wild rush was made at the table. Jo’s executioners 
were overturned and trampled under loot, and the table, 
with himself and his young advocate sprawling on it, was 
raised on the shoulders of the crowd and borne off in 
triumph. 

Half-an-hour later, Bumpus was set down at the widow’s 
door. Mrs. Stuart received him with a scream of surprise 
and joy, for she had given him up as a lost man. 

“ Now then, Mrs. Stuart,” said Jo, throwing himself on 
a chair and wiping the inspiration from his forehead, 
“ don’t make such a fuss about me, like a good creetur. 
But do get me a bit o’ bacon, and let’s be thankful that I’m 



THE SANDAL-WOOD TRADER 


227 


here to eat it. Cut it fat, Mrs. Stuart; cut it fat; for it’s 
wonderful wot a appetite I’ve got after such a mornin’s 
work as I’ve gone through. Well, well, after all that yer 
friends have said of ye, Jo Bumpus, I do believe that yer 
not born to be hanged?” 


228 


GASCOYNE 


CHAPTER XXII 

THE RENDEZVOUS-AN EPISODE-PECULIAR CIRCUM¬ 
STANCES-AND OTHER MATTERS 

About five or six days’ sail from the scene of our tale there 
lies one of those small rocks or islets with which the breast 
of the Pacific is in many places thickly studded. 

It is a lonely coral isle, far removed from any of its fel¬ 
lows, and presenting none of those grand features which 
characterise the island on which the settlement of Sandy 
Cove was situated. In no part does it rise more than 
thirty feet above the level of the sea; in most places it is 
little more than a few feet above it. The coral reefs around 
it are numerous; and, as many of them rise to within a few 
feet of the surface, the navigation in its neighbourhood is 
dangerous in the extreme. 

At the time of which we write, the vegetation of the isle 
was not very luxuriant. Only a few clusters of cocoa-nut 
palms grew here and there over its otherwise barren surface. 
In this respect it did not resemble most of the other islands 
of the Pacific. Owing partly to its being out of the usual 
course of ships, and partly to the dangerous reefs already 
referred to, the spot was never approached by vessels, or, if 
a ship happened to be driven towards it, she got out of its 
way as speedily as possible. 

This was the rendezvous of the pirates, and was named 
by them the Isle of Palms. 

Here, in caverns hollowed out of the coral rock, Gascoyne 


THE SANDAL-WOOD TRADER 


229 


had been wont to secrete such goods and stores as were 
necessary for the maintenance of his piratical course of life, 
and to this lone spot did Manton convey his prisoners after 
getting rid of his former commander. Towards this spot, 
also, did Gascoyne turn the prow of the cutter Wasp in 
pursuit of his mutinous first mate. 

Manton, for reasons best known to himself (certainly not 
from goodness of heart), was kind to his captives to the ex¬ 
tent of simply letting them alone. He declined to hold any 
intercourse whatever with Captain Montague, and forbade 
him to speak with the men upon pain of being confined to 
his berth. The young people were allowed to do as they 
pleased, so long as they kept out of the way. 

On reaching the Isle of Palms the pirates at once pro¬ 
ceeded to take in those stores of which they stood in need. 
The harbour into which the schooner ran was a narrow bay, 
on the shores of which the palm trees grew sufficiently high 
to prevent her masts from being seen from the other side of 
the island. Here the captives were landed, but as Manton 
did not wish them to witness his proceedings, he sent them 
across the islet under the escort of a party who conveyed 
them to the shores of a small bay. On the rocks in this 
bay lay the wreck of what once had been a noble ship. It 
was now completely dismantled. Her hull was stove in by 
the rocks. Her masts and yards were gone, with the ex¬ 
ception of their stumps and the lower part of the main¬ 
mast, to which the main-yard still hung with a ragged 
portion of the mainsail attached to it. 

A feeling of depression filled the breast of Montague and 
his companions as they came in sight of this wreck, and the 
former attempted to obtain some information in regard to 
her from his conductors, but they sternly bade him ask no 


230 


GASCOYNE 


questions. Some time afterwards he heard the story of 
this vessel’s fate. We shall record it here. 

Not many months prior to the date of our tale, the 
Avenger happened to have occasion to run down to the Isle 
of Palms. Gascoyne was absent at the time. He had been 
landed at Sandy Cove, and had ordered Manton to go to 
the rendezvous for supplies. On nearing the isle a storm 
arose. The wind was fair, however, and the schooner ran 
for her destination under close reefed sails. Just before 
reaching it they fell in with a large full-rigged ship, which, 
on sighting the schooner, ran up her flag half-mast high as 
a signal of distress. She had sprung a leak and was sink¬ 
ing. 

Had the weather been calmer the pirates would have at 
once boarded the vessel and carried her as a prize into the 
harbour, but the sea ran so high that this was impossible. 
Manton therefore ran down as close to the side of the mer¬ 
chantman (for such she seemed to be), as enabled him to 
hail her through the speaking trumpet. When sufficiently 
near he demanded her name and destination. 

“ The Brilliant , from Liverpool, bound for the Sandwich 
Islands. And you?” 

“ The Foam — from the Feejees — for Calcutta. What’s 
wrong with you?” 

“ Sprung a leak; is there anchorage in the bay?” sang 
out the captain of the merchantman. 

“ No, it’s too shoal for a big ship. Bear away round to 
the other side of the island. You’ll find good holding 
ground there — I will shew you the way.” 

The pirate accordingly conducted the unsuspecting 
stranger away from the only safe harbour in the island, 
and led him through a complete labyrinth of reefs and rocks 


THE SANDAL-WOOD TRADER 


231 


to the bay on the other side, in which he knew full well 
there was scarcely enough of water to float his own little 
schooner. 

With perfect confidence in his guide, the unfortunate 
captain of the merchantman followed until both vessels 
were in the comparatively still and sheltered water of the 
bay. Here Man ton suddenly put down the helm, brought 
his vessel up to the wind and allowed the stranger to pass 
him. 

“ Hold on about sixty fathoms farther and then let go 
your anchor,” he shouted, as the ship went steadily on to 
her doom. 

“ Ay, ay, and thank ’ee,” cried the captain, who had 
already taken in nearly all sail and was quite prepared to 
anchor. 

But Manton knew that before twenty fathoms more 
should be passed over by the ship she would run straight 
on a coral reef, which rose to within about five feet of the 
surface of the sea. In an exposed place this reef would 
have formed a line of breakers, but in its sheltered position 
the water gave no indication of its existence. The gale, 
though not blowing direct into the bay, entered it in a 
sufficiently straight line to carry the ship onward with great 
speed, notwithstanding the reduction made in her canvas. 

“ Stand by to let go the anchor,” cried her captain. 

That was his last order. Scarcely had the words passed 
his lips when the ship struck with a shock that caused her 
to quiver like a leaf from stem to stern. All the top-masts 
with their yards and rigging went over the side, and in one 
instant the fine vessel was a total wreck! 

The rest of the story is soon told. The pirates shewed 
their true colours, ran alongside and took possession with- 


232 


GASCOYNE 


out opposition, for the crew of the merchantman were so 
overwhelmed by the suddenness and appalling nature of 
the calamity that had befallen them that they had no heart 
to resist. 

Of course it was out of the question that the crew of the 
Brilliant could be allowed to remain on the island. Some 
of the pirates suggested that they should be put on a raft, 
towed to leeward of the island, and, when out of sight of it, 
be cast adrift to float about until they should be picked up 
or get blown on one of the numerous islands that lay to the 
southward of the rendezvous. Manton and Scraggs advo¬ 
cated this plan, but the better-disposed among the men 
protested against such needless cruelty, and suggested that 
it would be better to put them into the long-boat of the 
ship, bandage their eyes, then tow them out of sight of land 
and cast them loose to steer where they pleased. 

This plan was adopted and carried into execution. Then 
the pirates returned, and at their leisure unloaded and 
secured the cargo of their prize. It was richer than they 
had anticipated, being a miscellaneous cargo of valuable 
commodities for the trading stores of some of the South 
Sea merchants and settlers. 

The joy felt by the pirates on making this discovery, was 
all the benefit that was ever derived from these ill-gotten 
gains by any one of those who had a hand in that dastardly 
deed. Long before they had an opportunity of removing 
the goods thus acquired, the career of the Avenger had ter¬ 
minated. But we must not anticipate our story. 

On a green knoll near the margin of this bay, and in full 
view of the wreck, a rude tent or hut was constructed by 
the pirates out of part of an old sail which had been washed 
ashore from the wreck, and some broken spars. A small 


THE SANDAL-WOOD TRADER 


233 


cask of biscuit and two or three blankets were placed in it, 
and here the captives were left to do as they pleased until 
such time as Man ton chose to send for them. The only 
piece of advice that was given to them by their surly jailer 
was, that they should not on any pretense whatever cross 
the island to the bay in which the schooner lay at anchor. 

“ If ye do,” said the man who was the last of the party 
to quit them, “ye’ll wish ye hadn’t — that’s all. Take 
my advice and keep yer kooriosity in yer breeches’ pockets.” 

With this caution they were left to their own devices and 
meditations. 

It was a lovely calm evening at sunset when our four 
unfortunate friends were thus left alone in these strange 
circumstances. The effect of their forlorn condition was 
very different on each. Poopy flung herself down on the 
ground, inside the tent, and began to sob; Alice sat down 
beside her, and wept silently; whilst Montague, forgetting 
his own sorrows in his pity for the poor young creatures 
who had been thus strangely linked to him in affliction, sat 
down opposite to Alice, and sought to comfort her. 

Will Corrie, feeling that he could do nothing to cheer his 
companions in the circumstances, and being unable to sit 
still, rose, and going out at the end of the tent, both sides 
of which were open, stood leaning on a pole, and contem¬ 
plated the scene before him. 

In a small creek, or indentation of the shore, close to the 
knoll on which the tent stood, two of the pirates were work¬ 
ing at a boat which lay there. Corrie could not at first 
understand what they were about, but he was soon en¬ 
lightened, for, after hauling the boat as far out of the water 
as they could, they left her there, and followed their com- 


234 


GASCOYNE 


rades to the other side of the island, carrying the oars along 
with them. 

The spirit that dwelt in Corrie’s breast was a very pecu¬ 
liar one. Up to this point in his misfortunes the poor boy 
had been subdued — overwhelmed by the suddenness and 
the terrible nature of the calamity that had befallen him — 
or rather, that had befallen Alice, for, to do him justice, 
he only thought of her. Indeed, he carried this feeling so 
far that he had honestly confessed to himself, in a mental 
soliloquy, the night on which he had been captured, that 
he did not care one straw for himself, or Poopy, or Captain 
Montague — that his whole and sole distress of mind and 
body was owing to the grief into which Alice had been 
plunged. He had made an attempt to comfort her one 
night on the voyage to the Isle of Palms, when she and 
Poopy and he were left alone together; but he failed. After 
one or two efforts he ended by bursting into tears, and 
then, choking himself violently with his own hands, said 
that he was ashamed of himself, that he wasn’t crying for 
himself but for her (Alice), and that he hoped she wouldn’t 
think the worse of him for being so like a baby. Here he 
turned to Poopy, and in a most unreasonable manner 
began to scold her for being at the bottom of the whole 
mischief, in the middle of which he broke off, said that he 
believed himself to be mad, and vowed he would blow out 
his own brains first, and those of all the pirates afterwards. 
Whereupon he choked, sobbed again, and rushed out of the 
cabin as if he really meant to execute his last awful threat. 

But poor Corrie only rushed away to hide from Alice the 
irrepressible emotions that nearly burst his heart. Yes, 
Corrie was thoroughly subdued by grief. But the spring 


THE SANDAL-WOOD TRADER 


235 


was not broken, it was only crushed flat by the weight of 
sorrow that lay like a millstone on his youthful bosom. 

The first thing that set his active brain a-going once more 
— thereby overturning the weight of sorrow and causing 
the spring of his peculiar spirit to rebound — was the sight 
of the two pirates hauling up the boat and carrying off the 
oars. 

44 Ha! that’s your game is it?” muttered the boy between 
his teeth, and grasping the pole with both hands as if he 
wished to squeeze his fingers into the wood. 44 You don’t 
want to give us a chance of escaping, don’t you, eh! is that 
it? You think that because we’re a small party, and the 
half of us females, that we’re cowed, and won’t think of 
trying any other way of escaping, do you? Oh, yes, that’s 
what you think; you know it, you do, but you're mistaken 
(he became terribly sarcastic and bitter at this point); 
44 you’ll find that you have got men to deal with, that you’ve 
not only caught a tartar, but two tartars — one o’ them 
being ten times tarterer than the other. Oh, if-” 

“ What’s all that you’re saying, Corrie?” said Mon¬ 
tague, stepping out of the tent at that moment. 

44 O captain,” said the boy, vehemently, 44 I wish I were 
a giant!” 

44 Why so, lad?” 

44 Because then I would wade out to that wreck, clap my 
shoulder to her bow, shove her into deep water, carry you, 
and Alice, and Poopy aboard, haul out the main-mast by 
the roots, make an oar of it, and scull out to sea, havin’ 
previously fired off the biggest gun aboard of her, to let 
the pirates know what I was doing.” 

Corrie’s spirit was in a tumultuous and very rebellious 
state. He was half inclined to indulge in hysterical weep- 



236 


GASCOYNE 


ing, and more than half disposed to give way to a burst of 
savage glee. He spoke with the mantling blood blazing in 
his fat cheeks, and his two eyes glittering like those of a 
basilisk. Montague could not repress a smile and a look of 
admiration as he said to our little hero — 

“ Why, Corrie, if you were a giant it would be much 
easier to go to the other side of the island, wring off the 
heads of all the pirates, and, carrying me on your shoul¬ 
ders, and Alice and Poopy in your coat-pockets, get safely 
aboard of the Foam , and ho! for Sandy Cove.” 

41 So it would,” said Corrie, gravely. 44 I did not think 
of that, and it would be a far pleasanter way than the 
other.” 

“Ah! Corrie, I fear that you are a very bloodthirsty 
fellow.” 

44 Of course I am when I’ve pirates to deal with. I 
would kill them every man, without a thought.” 

44 No you wouldn’t, my boy. You couldn’t do it in cold 
blood, even although they are bad men.” 

“ I don’t know that,” said Corrie, dubiously. “ I would 
do it without more feeling than I would have in killing a 
cat.” 

44 Did you ever kill a cat?” asked Montague. 

44 Never,” answered Corrie. 

44 Then how can you tell what your feelings would be if 
you were to attempt to do it. I remember once, when I 
was a boy, going out to hunt cats.” 

44 O Captain Montague, surely you never hunted cats,” 
exclaimed Alice, who came out of the tent with a very pale 
face, and uncommonly red eyes. 

44 Yes, indeed, I did once — but I never did it again. I 
caught one, a kitten, and set off with a number of boys to 


THE SANDAL-WOOD TRADER 


237 


kill it; but as we went along it began to play with my 
neck-tie and to purr! Our hearts were softened, so we let 
it go. Ah! Corrie, my boy, never go hunting cats,” said 
Montague, earnestly. 

“ Did I say I was going to?” replied Corrie, indignantly. 

Montague laughed, and so did Alice, at the fierce look 
the boy put on. 

“ Come,” said the former, “ I’m sure that you would not 
kill a pirate in cold blood, any more than you would kill a 
kitten — would you?” 

“ I’m not sure o’ that,” said Corrie, half laughing, but 
still looking fierce. “ In the first place, my blood is never 
cold when I’ve to do with pirates; and, in the second place, 
pirates are not innocent creatures covered with soft hair — 
and they don’t purr!” 

This last remark set Alice into a fit of laughter, and drew 
a faint “ Hee! hee!” from Poopy, who had been listening 
to the conversation behind the canvas of the tent. 

Montague took advantage of this improved state of 
things. 

“ Now, Alice,” said he, cheerfully, “ do you and Poopy 
set about spreading our blanket-tablecloth and getting 
supper laid out. It is but a poor one,— hard biscuit and 
water,— but there is plenty of it, and, after all, that is the 
main thing. Meanwhile Corrie and I will saunter along 
shore and talk over our plans. Cheer up, my little girl, we 
will manage to give these pirates the slip somehow or other, 
you may depend upon it.” 

“ Corrie,” said Montague, when they were alone. “ I 
have spoken cheeringly to Alice, because she is a little girl 
and needs comfort, but you and I know that our case is a 
desperate one, and it will require all our united wisdom and 


238 


GASCOYNE 


cleverness to effect our escape from these rascally pirates.” 

The commander of the Talisman paused, and smiled in 
spite of himself at the idea of being placed in circumstances 
that constrained him to hold a consultation, in matters that 
might involve life and death, with a mere boy! But there 
was no help for it; besides, to say truth, the extraordinary 
energy and courage that had been displayed by the lad, 
combined with a considerable amount of innate sharpness 
in his character, tended to create a feeling that the consulta¬ 
tion might not be altogether without advantage. At all 
events, it was better to talk over their desperate position 
even with a boy, than to confine his anxieties to his own 
breast. 

But although Montague had seen enough of his young 
companion to convince him that he was an intelligent 
fellow, he was not prepared for the fertility of resource, the 
extremity of daring, and the ingenuity of device, that were 
exhibited by him in the course of that consultation. 

To creep over in the dead of night, knife in hand, and 
attack the pirates while asleep, was one of the least star¬ 
tling of his daring propositions; and to swim out to the 
wreck, set her on fire, and get quietly on board the Avenger , 
while all the amazed pirates should have rushed over to see 
what could have caused such a blaze, cut the cable and sail 
away, was among the least ingenious of his devices. 

These two talked long and earnestly while the shades of 
evening were descending on the Isle of Palms — and in the 
earnestness of their talk, and the pressing urgency of their 
case, the man almost forgot that his companion was a boy, 
and the boy never for a moment doubted that he himself, 
in everything but years, was a man. 

It was getting dark when they returned to the tent, where 


THE SANDAL-WOOD TRADER 


239 


they found that Alice and Poopy had arranged their supper 
with the most scrupulous care and nicety. These too, with 
the happy buoyancy of extreme youth, had temporarily for¬ 
gotten their position, and, when their male companions 
entered, were deeply engaged in a private game of a “ tea- 
party,” in which hard biscuit figured as bun, and water was 
made to do duty for tea. In this latter part of the game, 
by the way, the children did but carry out in jest a practice 
which is not altogether unknown in happier circumstances 
and in civilised society. 


240 


GASCOYNE 


CHAPTER XXIII 

PLANS PARTIALLY CARRIED OUT-THE CUTTER’S FATE- 

AND A SERIOUS MISFORTUNE 

The cutter was a fast sailer, and although the pirate 
schooner had left Sandy Cove nearly two days before her, 
the Wasp, having had a fair wind, followed close on her 
heels. The Avenger cast anchor in the harbour of the Isle 
of Palms on the morning of her fifth day out; the Wasp 
sighted the island on the evening of the same day. 

It was not Gascoyne’s purpose to run down at once and 
have a hand to hand fight with his own men. He felt that 
his party was too weak for such an attempt, and resolved 
to accomplish by stratagem what he could not hope to com¬ 
pass by force. He therefore hove-to the instant the tops 
of the palm-trees appeared on the horizon, and waited till 
night should set in and favour his designs. 

“What do you intend to do?” inquired Henry Stuart, 
who stood on the deck watching the sun as it sank into the 
ocean behind a mass of golden clouds, in which, however, 
there were some symptoms of stormy weather. 

“ I mean to wait till it is dark,” said Gascoyne, “ and 
then run down and take possession of the schooner.” 

Henry looked at the pirate captain in surprise, and not 
without distrust. Ole Thorwald, who was smoking his big 
German pipe with great energy, looked at him with undis¬ 
guised uneasiness. 

“You speak as if you had no doubt whatever of succeed¬ 
ing in this enterprise, Mr. Gascoyne,” said the latter. 


THE SANDAL-WOOD TRADER 


241 


“ I have no doubt,” replied Gascoyne. 

“ I do believe you’re right,” returned Thorwald, smok¬ 
ing furiously as he became more agitated. “ I make no 
question but your villains will receive you with open arms. 
What guarantee have we, Mister Gascoyne, or Mister Dur- 
ward, that we shall not be seized and made to walk the 
plank, or perform some similarly fantastic feat — in which, 
mayhap, our feet will have less to do with the performance 
than our necks — when you get into power?” 

“ You have no guarantee whatever,” returned Gascoyne, 
“ except the word of a pirate!” 

“ You say truth,” cried Ole, springing up and pacing the 
deck with unwonted energy, while a troubled and somewhat 
fierce expression settled on his usually good-humoured 
countenance. “You say truth, and I think we have been 
ill-advised when we took this step — for my part, I regard 
myself as little better than a maniac for putting myself 
obstinately, not to say deliberately, into the very jaws of a 
lion, perhaps I should say a tiger. But mark my words, 
Gascoyne, alias Durward ” (here he stopped suddenly before 
the pirate, who was leaning in a careless attitude against 
the mast, and looked him full in the face), “ if you play us 
false, as I have no hesitation in saying I believe that you 
fully intend to do, your life will not be worth a pewter 
shilling.” 

“ I am yet in your power, Mr. Thorwald,” said Gas¬ 
coyne; “ if your friends agree to it, I cannot prevent your 
putting about and returning to Sandy Cove. But in that 
case the missionary’s child will be lost!” 

“ I do not believe that my child’s safety is so entirely 
dependent on you,” said Mr. Mason, who had listened in 
silence to the foregoing dialogue; “she is in the hands of 


242 


GASCOYNE 


that God on whom you have turned your back, and with 
whom all things are possible. But I feel disposed to trust 
you, Gascoyne, and I feel thus, because of what was said 
of you by Mrs. Stuart, in whose good sense I place implicit 
confidence. I would advise Mr. Thorwald to wait patiently 
until he sees more cause than he does at present for dis¬ 
trust.” 

Gascoyne had turned round and, during the greater part 
of this speech, had gazed intently towards the horizon. 

“ We shall have rough weather to-night,” said he; “ but 
our work will be done before it comes, I hope. Up with 
the helm now, Henry, and slack off the sheets; it is dark 
enough to allow us to creep in without being observed. 
Manton will, of course, be in the only harbour in the 
island; we must therefore go round to the other side and 
take the risk of running on the reefs.” 

“ Risk!” exclaimed Henry; 11 I thought you knew all 
the passages about the island?” 

“ So 1 do, lad — all the passages, but I don’t profess to 
know every rpck and reef in the bottom of the sea. Our 
only chance is to make the island on the south side, where 
there are no passages at all except one that leads into a 
bay; but if we run into that, our masts will be seen against 
the southern sky, even from the harbour where the schooner 
lies. If we are seen, they will be prepared for us, in which 
case we shall have a desperate fight with little chance of 
success and the certainty of much bloodshed. We must 
therefore run straight for another part of the shore, not far 
from the bay I have referred to, and take our chance of 
striking. I think there is enough of water to float this 
little cutter over the reefs, but I am not sure.” 

“ Think! sure!” echoed Thorwald, in a tone of exas- 


THE SANDAL-WOOD TRADER 


243 


perated surprise; “ and if we do strike, Mr. Gascoyne, do 
you mean us to go beg for mercy at the hands of your men, 
or to swim back to Sandy Cove?” 

“ If we strike I shall take the boat, land with the men, 
and leave the cutter to her fate. The Avenger will suffice 
to take us back to Sandy Cove.” 

Ole was rendered speechless by the coolness of this re¬ 
mark, so he relieved himself by tightening his belt and 
spouting forth volcanoes of smoke. 

Meanwhile, the cutter had run to within a short distance 
of the island. The night was rendered doubly dark by the 
rapid spreading of those heavy clouds which indicated the 
approach of a squall, if not a storm. 

“ This is well,” said Gascoyne, in a low tone to Henry 
Stuart, who stood near him; “ the worse the storm is to¬ 
night the better for the success of our enterprise. Henry, 
lad, I’m sorry you think so badly of me.” 

Henry was taken aback by this unexpected remark, 
which was made in a low sad tone. 

11 Can I think too badly of one who confesses himself to 
be a pirate? 1 ’ said Henry. 

“ The confession is at least in my favour. I had no 
occasion to confess, nor to give myself up to you.” 

“ Give yourself up! It remains to be seen whether you 
mean to do that or not.” 

“ Do you not believe me, Henry? Do you not believe 
the account that I gave of myself to you and your mother?” 

“ How can I?” said the young man, hesitatingly. 

“Your mother believed me.” 

“ Well, Gascoyne, to tell you the plain truth, I do feel 
more than half inclined to believe you, and I’m sorry for 


244 


GASCOYNE 


you — I am, from my soul. You might have led a different 
life — you might even do so yet.” 

“You forget,” said Gascoyne, smiling sadly, “ I have 
given myself up, and you are bound to prevent my escap¬ 
ing.” 

Henry was perplexed by this reply. In the enthusiasm 
of his awakened pity he had for a moment forgotten the 
pirate in the penitent. Before he could reply, however, the 
cutter struck violently on a rock, and an exclamation of 
alarm and surprise burst from the crew, most of whom 
were assembled on deck. 

“ Silence!” cried Gascoyne, in a deep sonorous tone, 
that was wonderfully different from that in which he had 
just been speaking to Henry; “ get out the boat. Arm 
yourselves and jump in. There is no time to lose.” 

“The cutter is hard and fast,” said Henry; “if this 
squall does not come on, or if it turns out to be a light one, 
we may get her off.” 

“ Perhaps we may, but I have little hope of that,” re¬ 
turned Gascoyne. “ Now, lads, are you all in the boat? 
Come, Henry, get in at once.” 

“ I will remain here,” said Henry. 

“ For what end?” said Gascoyne, in surprise. 

“ The cutter belongs to a friend; I do not choose to for¬ 
sake her in this off-hand manner.” 

“ But nothing can save her, Henry.” 

“ Perhaps not. Nevertheless, I will do what I can. She 
moves a little. If she is lifted over this reef while we are 
on shore, she will be carried out to sea and lost, and that 
must not be allowed. Leave me here till you land the 
men, and then send the boat back with two of them. We 
will put some of the cutter’s ballast into it and try to tow 


THE SANDAL-WOOD TRADER 


245 


her off. It won’t take half-an-hour, and that will not 
interfere with your plans, I should think, for the whole 
night lies before us.” 

Seeing that he was determined, Gascoyne agreed, and 
left the cutter, promising to send off the boat directly. 
But it took half-an-hour to row from the Wasp to the shore, 
and before the half of that time had elapsed, the storm 
which had been impending burst over the island. 

It was much more violent than had been expected. The 
cutter was lifted over the reef by the first wave, and struck 
heavily as she slid into deep water. Then she rushed out 
to sea before the gale. Henry seized the helm and kept 
the little vessel right before the wind. He knew nothing 
of the sea around, and the intense darkness of the night 
prevented his seeing more than a dozen yards beyond the 
bow. 

It was perhaps as well that he was kept in ignorance of 
what awaited him, for he was thus spared at least the antic¬ 
ipation of what appeared certain destruction. He fancied 
that the rock over which he had been carried was the outer 
reef of the island. In this he was mistaken. The whole 
sea around and beyond him was beset with reefs, which at 
that moment were covered with foam. Had daylight re¬ 
vealed the scene, he would have been appalled. As it was, 
he stood stoutly and hopefully to the helm while the cutter 
rushed wildly on her doom. 

Suddenly she struck with terrific violence, and Henry 
was hurled to the deck. Leaping up, he sprang again to 
the helm and attempted to put about, but the shock had 
been so great that the whole framework of the little craft 
was dislocated. The fastenings of the rudder had been 


246 


GASCOYNE 


torn out, and she was unmanageable. The next wave 
lifted her over the reef and the gale swept her away. 

Even then the hopes of the young man did not quite fail 
him. He believed that the last reef had now been passed, 
and that he would be driven out to the open sea, clear at 
least of immediate danger. It was a vain hope. In an¬ 
other moment the vessel struck for the third time, and the 
mast went over the side. Again and again she rose and fell 
with all her weight on the rocks. The last blow burst out 
her sides, and she fell to pieces, a total wreck, leaving 
Henry struggling with the waves. 

He seized the first piece of wood that came in his way, 
and clung to it. For many hours he was driven about and 
tossed by the winds and waves until he began to feel utterly 
exhausted, but he clung to the spar with the tenacity of a 
drowning man. In those seas the water is not so cold as 
in our northern climes, so that men can remain in it for a 
great length of time without much injury. There are 
many instances of the South Sea Islanders having been 
wrecked in their canoes, and having spent not only hours 
but days in the water, clinging to broken pieces of wood, 
and swimming for many miles, pushing these before them. 

When, therefore, the morning broke, and the bright sun 
shone out, and the gale had subsided, Henry found himself 
still clinging to the spar, and although much weakened, 
still able to make some exertion to save himself. 

On looking round he found that numerous pieces of the 
wreck floated near him, and that the portion to which he 
clung was the broken lower-mast. A large mass of the 
deck, with part of the gunwale attached to it, lay close 
beside him, held to the mast by one of the shrouds. He 
at once swam to this, and found it sufficiently large to sus- 


THE SANDAL-WOOD TRADER 


247 


tain his weight, though not large enough to enable him to 
get quite out of the water. 

Feeling that it would be impossible to exist much longer 
unless he could get quite out of the water so as to allow 
the sun to warm his chilled frame, he used what strength 
remained in him to drag towards him several spars that lay 
within his reach. These he found to be some of the rough 
timbers that had lain on the deck of the cutter to serve as 
spare masts and yards. They were, therefore, destitute of 
cordage, so that it was not possible to form a secure raft. 
Nevertheless, by piling them together on the top of the 
broken portion of the deck, he succeeded in constructing a 
platform which raised him completely out of the water. 

The heat of the sun speedily dried his garments, and as 
the day wore on the sea went down sufficiently to render 
the keeping of his raft together a matter of less difficulty 
than it was at first. In trying to make some better arrange¬ 
ment of the spars on which he rested, he discovered the 
corner of a sail sticking between two of them. This he 
hauled out of the water, and found it to be a portion of the 
gaff. It was a fortunate discovery; because, in the event 
of long exposure, it would prove to be a most useful cover¬ 
ing. Wringing it out, he spread it over the logs to dry. 

The doing of all this occupied the shipwrecked youth so 
long, that it was nearly mid-day before he could sit down 
on his raft and think calmly over his position. Hunger 
now began to remind him that he was destitute of food; but 
Henry had been accustomed, while roaming among the 
mountains of his island home, to go fasting for long periods 
of time. The want of breakfast, therefore, did not incon¬ 
venience him much; but before he had remained inactive 
more than ten minutes, the want of sleep began to tell upon 


248 


GASCOYNE 


him. Gradually he felt completely overpowered by it. He 
laid his head on one of the spars at last, and resigned him¬ 
self to an influence he could no longer resist. 

It was evening before he awoke from that slumber. The 
sun had just disappeared below the horizon, and the red 
clouds that remained behind were beginning to deepen, as 
night prepared to throw her dark mantle over the sea. A 
gull wheeled over the youth’s head and uttered a wild cry 
as he awoke, causing him to start up with a feeling of be¬ 
wildered uncertainty as to where he was. 

The true nature of his position was quickly forced upon 
him. A dead calm now prevailed. Henry gazed eagerly, 
wistfully round the horizon. It was an unbroken line; not 
a speck that resembled a sail was to be seen. Remembering 
for the first time that his low ralt would be quite invisible 
at a very short distance he set about erecting a flag. This 
was easily done. Part of his red shirt was torn off and 
fastened to a light spar, the end of which he stuck between 
the logs. Having set up his signal of distress he sat down 
beside it, and, drawing part of the sail over his shoulders, 
leaned on the broken part of the bulwark, and pondered 
his forlorn condition. 

It was a long, sad reverie into which poor Henry Stuart 
fell that evening. Hope did not, indeed, forsake his breast 
— for hope is strong in youth; but he was too well ac¬ 
quainted with the details of a sailor’s life and risks to be 
able to shut his eyes to the real dangers of his position. 

But the thoughts that coursed through the youth’s brain 
that night were not centered alone upon the means or the 
prospects of deliverance. He thought of his mother,— her 
gentleness, her goodness, her unaccountable partiality for 
Gascoyne; but more than all, he thought of her love for 


THE SANDAL-WOOD TRADER 


249 


himself. He thought, too, of his former life — his joys, 
his sorrows, and his sins. Despite his efforts to restrain 
them, tears, but not unmanly tears, would flow down 
his cheeks as he sat that evening on his raft; meditated on 
the past, the present, and the future, and realised the ter¬ 
rible solemnity of his position — without water or food — 
almost without hope — alone on the deep. 


250 


GASCOYNE 


CHAPTER XXIV 

AN UNEXPECTED MEETING — DOINGS ON THE ISLE OF PALMS 

— Gascoyne’s despair 

It was not without some difficulty that the boat reached 
the shore after the squall burst upon them. On landing, 
the party observed, dark though it was, that their leader’s 
countenance wore an expression of the deepest anxiety; yet 
there were lines upon it that indicated the raging of con¬ 
flicting passions which he found it difficult to restrain. 

“ I fear me,” said Ole Thorwald in a troubled voice, 
“ that our young friend Henry Stuart is in danger.” 

“ Lost!” said Gascoyne, in a voice so low and grating 
that it startled his hearers. 

“ Say not so,” said Mr. Mason, earnestly. “ He is a 
brave and a clever youth, and knows how to manage the 
cutter until we can row back and fetch him ashore.” 

“ Row back!” exclaimed Gascoyne, almost fiercely. 
“ Think you that I would stand here idle if our boat could 
live in such a sea as now rolls on the rocks? The Wasp 
must have been washed over the reef by this time. She 
may pass the next without being dashed to pieces, but she 
is too rickety to stand the third. No, there is no hope!” 

While he spoke the missionary’s eyes were closed, and his 
lips moved as if in silent prayer. Seizing Gascoyne ner¬ 
vously by the arm, he said — “ You cannot tell that there 
is no hope. That is known only to One who has encour¬ 
aged us to 1 hope against hope.’ Henry is a stout youth 


THE SANDAL-WOOD TRADER 


251 


and a good swimmer. He may succeed in clinging to some 
portion of the wreck.” 

“ True, true,” cried Gascoyne, eagerly, grasping at this 
hope, slight though it was. “ Come, we waste time. 
There is but one chance. The schooner must be secured 
without delay. Lads, you will follow Mr. Thorwald. Do 
whatever he bids you. And now,” he added, leading the 
merchant aside, “ the time for action has come. I will 
conduct you to a certain point on the island where you will 
remain concealed among the bushes until I return to you.” 

“ And suppose you never return to us, Mister Gas¬ 
coyne?” said Ole, who regarded every act of the pirate 
captain with suspicion. 

“ Then you will remain there till you are tired,” an¬ 
swered Gascoyne, with some asperity, “ and after that, do 
what you please.” 

“ Well, well, I am in your power,” retorted the obdurate 
Norseman; “ make what arrangements you please. I will 
carry them out until-” 

Here Ole thought fit to break off, and Gascoyne, without 
taking notice of the remark, went on in a few hurried sen¬ 
tences to explain as much of his plan as he thought neces¬ 
sary for the guidance of his suspicious ally. 

This done, he led the whole party to the highest part of 
the island, and made them lie in ambush there while he 
went forward alone to reconnoitre. The night was admi¬ 
rably suited to their purpose. It was so dark that it was 
extremely difficult to perceive objects more than a few 
yards off, and the wind howled so furiously among the 
palms that there was no danger of being overheard in the 
event of their speaking too loud or stumbling over fallen 
trees. 



252 


GASCOYNE 


Gascoyne, who knew every rock and tree on the Isle of 
Palms, went rapidly down the gentle slope that intervened 
between him and the harbour in which the Foam lay at 
anchor. Dark though it was, he could see the taper masts 
and yards of his vessel traced dimly against the sky. 

The pirate’s movements now became more cautious. He 
stepped slowly, and paused frequently to listen. At last 
he went down on his hands and knees and crept forward 
for a considerable distance in that position, until he reached 
a ledge of rocks that overhung the shore of the bay. Here 
he observed an object like a round lump of rock, lying a 
few yards before him, on a spot where he was well aware 
no such rock had previously existed. It moved after a 
moment or two. Gascoyne knew that there were no 
wild animals of any kind on the island, and, therefore, at 
once jumped to the conclusion that this must needs be a 
human being of some sort. Drawing his knife he put it 
between his teeth, and creeping noiselessly towards the 
object in question laid his strong hand on the neck of the 
horrified Will Corrie. 

That adventurous and desperate little hero having lain 
sleepless and miserable at the feet of Alice until the squall 
blew the tent over their heads, got up and assisted Mon¬ 
tague to erect it anew in a more sheltered position, after 
which, saying that he meant to take a midnight ramble 
on the shore to cool his fevered brow, he made straight for 
the sea, stepped knee-deep into the raging surf, and bared 
his breast to the furious blast. 

This cooled him so effectually that he took to running 
along shore in order to warm himself. Then it occurred 
to him that the night was particularly favourable for a sly 
peep at the pirates. Without a moment’s hesitation he 


THE SANDAL-WOOD TRADER 


253 


walked and stumbled towards the high part of the island, at 
which he arrived just half-an-hour before Gascoyne reached 
it. He had seen nothing, however, and was on the point 
of advancing still further in his explorations, when he was 
discovered as we have seen. 

Gascoyne instantly turned the boy over on his back, and 
nipped a tremendous yell in the bud by grasping his wind¬ 
pipe. 

“ Why, Corrie!” exclaimed Gascoyne in surprise, at 
the same time loosening his grip, though still holding the 
boy down. 

“Ah! you villain, you rascally pirate. I know you, 
I-” 

The pipe was gently squeezed at this point, and the sen¬ 
tence abruptly cut short. 

“ Come, boy, you must not speak so loud. Enemies are 
near. If you don’t behave I’ll have to throttle you. I 
have come from Sandy Cove with a party to save you and 
your friends.” 

Corrie did not believe a word of this. He knew, or at 
least he supposed, that Gascoyne had left the schooner, 
not having seen him since they sailed from Sandy Cove; 
but he knew nothing of the manner in which he had been 
put ashore. 

“It won’t do, Gascoyne,” gasped poor Corrie, on being 
permitted again to use his wind-pipe. “You may kill me, 
but you’ll never cow me. I don’t believe you, you cowardly 
monster.” 

“ I’ll have to convince you then,” said Gascoyne, sud¬ 
denly catching the boy in his arms, and bearing him swiftly 
away from the spot. 

Corrie struggled like a hero, as he was. He tried to 



254 


GASCOYNE 


shout, but Gascoyne’s right hand again squeezed the wind¬ 
pipe; he attempted to bite, but the same hand easily kept 
the refractory head in order; he endeavoured to kick and 
hit, but Gascoyne’s left hand encircled him in such a com¬ 
prehensive embrace and pressed him so powerfully to his 
piratical bosom that he could only wriggle. This he did 
without ceasing, until Gascoyne suddenly planted him on 
his feet, panting and dishevelled, before the astonished 
faces of Frederick Mason and Ole Thorwald. 

It is not necessary to describe in detail the surprise of all 
then and there assembled, the hurried conversation, and 
the cry of joy with which the missionary received the in¬ 
formation that Alice was safe and within five minutes’ walk 
of the spot on which he stood. Suffice it to say, that Corrie 
was now convinced of the good faith of Gascoyne, whom 
he at once led, along with Mr. Mason, to the tent where 
Alice and her friends slept — leaving Thorwald and his men 
where they were, to await further orders. 

The cry of wild delight with which Alice sprang into 
her father’s arms might have been destructive of all Gas¬ 
coyne’s plans had not the wind carried it away from the 
side of the island where the pirate schooner lay. There 
was now no time to be lost. After the first embrace, and 
a few hurried words of blessing and thanksgiving, the 
missionary was summoned to a consultation. 

“ I will join you in this enterprise, Mr. Gascoyne,” said 
Montague. “ I believe what you say to be true, besides, 
the urgency of our present danger leaves me no room for 
choice. I am in your power. I believe that in your pres¬ 
ent penitent condition you are willing to enable us to 
escape from your former associates; but I tell you frankly 


THE SANDAL-WOOD TRADER 


255 


that, if ever I have an opportunity to do so, I will consider 
it my duty to deliver you over to justice.” 

“ Time is too precious to trifle thus,” said Gascoyne, 
hurriedly. “ I have already said that I will deliver myself 
up — not however to you , but to Mr. Mason — after I have 
rescued the party, so that I am not likely to claim any con¬ 
sideration from you on account of the obligation which you 
seem to think my present act will lay you under. But you 
must not accompany me just now.” 

“ Why not?” 

“ Because your presence may be required here. You 
and Mr. Mason will remain where you are to guard the 
girls, until I return. All that I have to ask is, that you be 
in readiness to follow me at a moment’s notice when the 
time comes.” 

“ Of course what you arrange must be agreed to,” said 
Montague. 

“ Come, Corrie, I will require your assistance. Follow 
me,” said the pirate captain, as he turned and strode 
rapidly away. 

Corrie was now thoroughly convinced of the good inten¬ 
tions of Gascoyne, so he followed him without hesitation. 
Indeed, now that he had an opportunity of seeing a little 
more of his gigantic companion, he began to feel a strange 
kind of pity and liking for him, but he shuddered and felt 
repelled when he thought of the human blood in which his 
hands must have been imbrued, for as yet he had not 
heard of the defence of himself which Gascoyne had made 
in the widow’s cottage. But he had not much time to 
think, for in a few minutes they came upon Ole Thorwald 
and his party. 

“ Follow me quietly,” said Gascoyne. “ Keep in single 


256 


GASCOYNE 


file and close together, for if we are separated here we shall 
not easily get together again.” 

Leading them over the same ground that he had for¬ 
merly traversed, Gascoyne conducted his party to the shores 
of the bay where the Foam lay at anchor. Here he made 
them keep close in the bushes, with directions to be ready 
to act the instant he should call on them to do so. 

“ But it would comfort me mightily, Mister Gascoyne,” 
said Thorwald in a somewhat troubled voice, “ if you 
would give me some instructions or advice as to what I am 
to do in the event of your plans miscarrying. I care 
nought for a fair fight in open field, but I do confess to a 
dislike of being brought to the condition of not knowing 
what to do ” 

“ It won’t matter much what you do, Mr. Thorwald,” 
said Gascoyne, gravely. “If my plans miscarry, you will 
be killed every soul of you. You’ll not have the ghost of 
a chance of escaping.” 

Ole opened his eyes uncommonly wide at this. 

“ Well,” said he at length, with a sigh of resignation, 
“ it’s some comfort to know that one can only be killed 
once.” 

Gascoyne now proceeded leisurely to strip off his shirt, 
thereby displaying a chest, back, and arms in which the 
muscles were developed to an extent that might have made 
Hercules himself envious. Kicking off his boots, he re¬ 
duced his clothing to a pair of loose knee-breeches. 

“ ’Tis a strange time to indulge in a cold bath!” mur¬ 
mured Thorwald, whose state of surprise was beginning to 
render him desperately ironical. 

Gascoyne took no notice of this remark, but calling 
Corrie to his side, said — 


THE SANDAL-WOOD TRADER 


257 


“ Can you swim, boy?” 

“ Yes, like a duck.” 

“ Can you distinguish the stern of the schooner?” 

“ I can.” 

“ Listen then. When you see a white sheet waved over 
the taffrail, throw off your jacket and shirt and swim out 
to the schooner. D’ye understand?” 

“ Perfectly,” replied the boy, whose decision of manner 
and action grew with the occasion. 

11 And now, Mr. Thorwald,” said Gascoyne, “ I shall 
swim off to the schooner. If, as I expect, the men are on 
shore in a place that I wot of and with which you have 
nothing to do, well and good, I will send a boat for you 
with muffled oars — but, mark you, let there be no noise in 
embarking or in getting aboard the schooner. If, on the 
other hand, the men are aboard, I will bring a boat to you 
myself, in which case silence will not be so necessary, and 
your fighting powers shall be put to the proof.” 

Without waiting for a reply, the pirate captain walked 
down the sloping beach and waded slowly into the dark 
sea. His motions were so noiseless and stealthy that 
those who watched him with eager eyes could only discern 
a figure moving gradually away from them and melting 
into the thick gloom. 

Fierce though the storm was outside, the sheltered waters 
of the bay were almost calm, so that Gascoyne had no diffi¬ 
culty in swimming off to the Foam without making any 
noise. As he drew near, a footstep on the deck apprised 
him that there was at least a watch left. A few seconds 
later a man leaned over the low bulwarks of the vessel on 
the side on which the swimmer approached. 

“ Hist! what sort o’ brute’s that?” he exclaimed, seiz- 


258 


GASCOYNE 


ing a handspike that chanced to be near him and hurling it 
at the head of the brute. 

The handspike fell within a yard of Gascoyne, who, 
keeping up his supposed character, made a wild splash with 
his arms and dived like a genuine monster of the deep. 
Swimming under water as vigorously as he could, he en¬ 
deavoured to gain the other side of the vessel before he 
came up; but, finding that this was impossible, he turned 
on his back and allowed himself to rise gently until nothing 
but his face appeared above the surface. By this means 
he was enabled to draw a full breath, and then, causing 
himself to sink, he swam under water to the other side of 
the schooner and rose under her quarter. 

Here he paused a minute to breathe, then glided with 
noiseless strokes to the main chains, which he seized hold 
of, and, under their shelter, listened intently for at least 
five minutes. 

Not a sound was to be heard on board save the footstep 
of the solitary watchman who slowly paced the deck, and 
now and then beguiled the tedium of his vigil by humming 
a snatch of a sea song. 

Gascoyne now felt assured that the crew were ashore 
enjoying themselves (as they were wont to do), in one of 
the artificial caverns where their goods were concealed. 
He knew, from his own former experience, that they felt 
quite secure when once at anchor in the harbour of the Isle 
of Palms; it was therefore probable that all of them had 
gone ashore except this man who had been left to take 
care of the vessel. 

Gascoyne now drew himself slowly up into the chains, 
and remained there for a few seconds in a stooping position, 
keeping his head below the level of the bulwarks while he 


THE SANDAL-WOOD TRADER 


259 


squeezed the water out of his lower garments. This done, 
he waited until the man on deck came close to where he 
stood, when he sprang on him with the agility of a tiger, 
threw him down, and placed his hand on his mouth. 

“It will be your wisest course to be still, my man,” said 
Gascoyne, sternly. “You know who I am, and you know 
what I can do when occasion requires. If you shout when 
I remove my hand from your mouth you die.” 

The man seemed to be quite aware of the hopelessness of 
his case, for he quietly submitted to have his mouth bound 
with a handkerchief and his hands and feet tied with cords. 
A few seconds sufficed to accomplish this, after which 
Gascoyne took him up in his arms as if he had been a 
child, carried him below, and laid him on one of the cabin 
lockers. Then, dragging a sheet off one of the beds, he 
sprang up on deck and waved it over the stern. 

“ That’s the signal for me,” said Corrie, who had watched 
for it eagerly — “ now, uncle Ole, mind you obey orders — 
you’re rather inclined to be mutinous, and that won’t pay 
to-night. If you don’t look out, Gascoyne will pitch into 
you, old boy.” 

Master Corrie indulged in these impertinent remarks 
while he was stripping off his jacket and shirt. The exas¬ 
perated Thorwald attempted to seize him by the neck and 
shake him, but Corrie flung his jacket in his face, and 
sprang down the beach like a squirrel. He had wisdom 
enough, however, to say and do all this in the quietest pos¬ 
sible manner, and when he entered the sea he did so with 
as much caution as Gascoyne himself had done, insomuch 
that he seemed to melt away like a mischievous sprite. 

In a few minutes he was alongside of the Foam; caught 


260 


GASCOYNE 


a rope that was thrown to him, and quickly stood on the 
deck. 

“ Well done, Corrie. Clamber over the stern, and slide 
down by that rope into the little boat that floats there. 
Take one of the oars, which you will find muffled, and 
scull to the shore and bring off Thorwald and his men. 
And, hark ’ee, boy, bring off my shirt and boots. Now, 
look alive; your friend Henry Stuart’s life may depend on 
it.” 

“ Henry’s life!” exclaimed Corrie in amazement. 

“ Come, no questions. His life may depend on your 
promptitude.” 

Corrie wanted no stronger motive for speed. In a state 
of surprise mingled with anxious forebodings, he leaped 
over the stern and was gone in a moment. 

The distance between the shore and the schooner being 
very short, the boat was quickly alongside, and the party, 
under stout Ole Thorwald, took possession of their prize. 
Meanwhile Gascoyne had set the jib and fore-topsail, which 
latter had been left hanging loose from the yard, so that 
by hauling out the sheets slowly and with great care, the 
thing was done without noise. The cable was then cut, 
the boat manned, and the Foam glided out of the bay like 
a phantom ship. 

The moment she got beyond the shelter of the palms her 
sails filled, and in a few minutes she was rushing through 
the water at the rate of ten or eleven knots an hour. 

Gascoyne stood at the helm and guided her through the 
intricacies of the dangerous coast with consummate skill, 
until he reached the bay where the wrecked ship lay. Here 
he lay to, and sent the boat ashore for the party that had 
been left at the tent. They were waiting anxiously for 


THE SANDAL-WOOD TRADER 


261 


his return; great therefore was their astonishment when he 
sent a message inviting them to go on board the FoamI 

The instant they embarked Gascoyne put about, and, or¬ 
dering the mainsail to be hoisted and one of the reefs to be 
shaken out of the topsail, ran round to windward of the 
island, with the foam flying in great masses on either side 
of the schooner, which lay over so much before the gale 
that it was scarcely possible to stand on the deck. 

The manner in which the pirate captain now acted was 
calculated to fill the hearts of those whose lives seemed to 
hang in his hands with alarm if not dismay. His spirit 
seemed to be stirred within him. There was indeed no 
anger either in his looks or tones, but there was a stern fixed¬ 
ness of purpose in his manner and aspect which aroused, 
yet repelled, the curiosity of those around him. Even Ole 
Thorwald and Montague agreed that it was best to let him 
alone, for although they might overcome his great physical 
force by the united strength of numbers, the result would 
certainly be disastrous, as he was the only one who knew 
the locality. 

On reaching the windward side of the island he threw the 
schooner up into the wind, and ordered the large boat to 
be hoisted out and put in the water. Gascoyne issued his 
commands in a quick loud voice, and Ole shook his head as 
if he felt that this overbearing manner proved what he had 
expected, namely, that when the pirate got aboard his own 
vessel he would come out in his true colours. 

Whatever men felt or thought, there was no hesitation 
in rendering prompt obedience to that voice. The large 
boat was hoisted off the brass pivot gun amidships and 
lowered into the water. Then Gascoyne gave the helm 
to one of the men, with directions to hold it exactly as it 


262 


GASCOYNE 


then lay, and, hurrying down below, speedily returned, to 
the astonishment of every one, with a man in his arms. 

“ Now, Conway,” said Gascoyne, as he cut the cords 
that bound the man and removed the handkerchief from his 
mouth, “ I’m a man of few words, and to-night have less 
time than usual to speak. I set you free. Get into that 
boat — one oar will suffice to guide it — the wind will drive 
it to the island. I send it as a parting gift to Man ton and 
my former associates. It is large enough to hold them all. 
Tell them that I repent of my sins, and the sooner they do 
the same the better. I cannot now undo the evil I have 
done them. I can only furnish the means of escape, so 
that they may have time and opportunity to mend their 
ways, and, hark’ee, the sooner they leave this place the 
better. It will no longer be a safe retreat. Farewell!” 

While he was speaking he led the man by the arm to the 
side of the schooner, and constrained him to get into the 
boat. As he uttered the last word he cut the rope that 
held it, and let it drop astern. 

Gascoyne immediately resumed his place at the helm, 
and once more the schooner was running through the water, 
almost gunwale under, towards the place where the Wasp 
had been wrecked. 

Without uttering a word of explanation, and apparently 
forgetful of every one near him, the pirate continued during 
the remainder of that night to steer the Foam out and in 
among the roaring breakers, as if he were trying how near 
he could venture to the jaws of destruction without actually 
plunging into them. As the night wore on the sky cleared 
up, and the scene of foaming desolation that was presented 
by the breakers in the midst of which they flew, was almost 
enough to appall the stoutest heart. 


THE SANDAL-WOOD TRADER 


263 


The crew looked on in moody silence. They knew that 
their lives were imperilled, but they felt that they had no 
resource. No one dared to address the silent, stern man 
who stood like an iron statue at the helm the whole of that 
night. Towards morning, he steered out from among the 
dangerous coral reefs and ran south, straight before the 
wind. 

Then Corrie summoned up courage, and, going aft to 
Gascoyne, looked up in his face and said — 

“ You’re searching for Henry, I think?” 

“Yes, boy, I am,” answered the pirate, and a gleam of 
kindliness crossed his face for a moment, but it was quickly 
chased away by a look of deep anxiety, and Corrie retired. 

Now that the danger of the night was over, all the people 
on board became anxious to save Henry or ascertain his 
fate; but although they searched the ocean far and wide, 
they saw not a vestige of him or of the Wasp. During 
this period Gascoyne acted like a bewildered man. He 
never quitted the helm night nor day. He only ate a 
biscuit now and then when it was brought to him, and he 
did not answer when he was spoken to. 

Every one felt sympathy with the man who seemed to 
mourn so deeply for the lost youth. 

At last Montague went up to him and said in a gentle 
voice — 

“ I fear that Henry is gone.” 

Gascoyne started as if a sword had pierced him. For 
one moment he looked fiercely in the young captain’s face; 
then an expression of the deepest sadness overspread his 
countenance as he said — 


“ Do you think there is no hope?” 


264 


GASCOYNE 


“ None,” said Montague. “ I grieve to give pain to one 
who seems to have been an intimate friend of the lad.” 

“ He was the son of my oldest and best friend. What 
would you advise, Mr. Montague?” 

”1 think — that is to say, don’t you think — that it 
would be as well to put about now?” 

Gascoyne’s head dropped on his chest, and for some 
moments he stood speechless, while his strong hands played 
nervously with the tiller that they had held so long and so 
firmly. At last he looked up, and said in a low voice — 
“ I resign the schooner into your hands, Mr. Montague.” 

Then he went slowly below, and shut himself up in his 
cabin. 

Montague at once put down the helm, and, pointing the 
schooner’s prow northward, steered for the harbour of 
Sandy Cove. 


THE SANDAL-WOOD TRADER 


265 


CHAPTER XXV 

SURLY DICK—THE RESCUE 

We must turn aside here for a short time to follow the 
fortunes of the Talisman. 

When that vessel went in chase of the Foam , after her 
daring passage across the reefs, she managed to keep her in 
view until the island was out of sight astern. Then the in¬ 
creasing darkness caused by the squall hid the two vessels 
from each other, and before the storm passed away the 
superior sailing qualities of the Foam carried her far beyond 
the reach of the cruiser. 

But Mr. Mulroy was not a man to be easily baffled. He 
resolved to continue the chase, and, supposing that his 
commander must have got safely to the shore, he made 
up his mind to proceed southward for a short time, think¬ 
ing it probable that the pirate would run for the shelter 
of those remote islands which he knew were seldom visited 
by merchant ships. The importance of keeping the chase 
in view as long as possible, and following it up without 
delay, he felt would be accepted as a sufficient excuse by 
Montague for not putting back to take him on board. 

The squalls which happened to prevail at that time drove 
the Talisman farther south than her first lieutenant had 
intended to go, and she failed to fall in with the pirate 
schooner. Mulroy cruised far and wide for fully a week; 
then he gave up the chase as hopeless. Two days after the 
breaking of the storm that wrecked the Wasp , the Talis¬ 
man's prow was turned northward towards Sandy Cove. 


266 


GASCOYNE 


It was the close of a calm beautiful evening when this 
was done. A gentle breeze fanned the topsails, although 
it failed to ruffle the sea. 

“ I don’t like to be baffled in this way,” said Mulroy to 
the second lieutenant, as they paced the quarter-deck to¬ 
gether. 

“ It is very unfortunate,” returned the other. “ Would 
it not be as well to examine the man called Surly Dick 
before leaving these waters? You know he let out that 
there is some island hereabouts at which the pirates are 
wont to rendezvous. Perhaps by threats, if not by persua¬ 
sion, he may be induced to tell us where it lies.” 

“ True. I had forgotten that fellow altogether. Let 
him be sent for.” 

In a few minutes Surly Dick stepped on the quarter-deck 
and touched his cap. He did not appear to have grown 
less surly since his introduction on board the frigate. Dis¬ 
cipline had evidently a souring effect on his temper. 

“ Your late comrades have escaped me,” said the first 
lieutenant, “ but you may depend upon it I will catch the 
villains in the long run.” 

“ It’ll be a pretty long run before you do,” remarked the 
man, sulkily. 

Mulroy looked sternly at him. “You forget,” said he, 
“ that you are a prisoner. Let me advise you to be at least 
civil in your manner and tone. Whether the run shall be 
a long or a short one remains to be seen. One thing is 
pretty certain, namely, that your own run of life will be a 
very short one. You know the usual doom of a pirate when 
he is caught.” 

Surly Dick moved uneasily. “ I was made a pirate 


THE SANDAL-WOOD TRADER 


267 


against my will,” said he, in a still more sulky tone and 
disrespectful manner. 

“ You will find it difficult to prove that,” returned Mul- 
roy. “ Meanwhile I shall put you in irons and treat you 
as you deserve until I can place you in the hands of the 
civil authorities.” 

Surly Dick stood first on one leg and then on the other; 
moved his fingers about nervously, and glanced in the 
lieutenant’s face furtively. It was evident that he was ill 
at ease. 

“ I never committed murder, sir,” said he in an improved 
tone. “ It wasn’t allowed on board of the Avenger , sir. 
It’s a hard case that a fellow should be made a pirate by 
force, and then be scragged for it, though he’s done none 
o’ the bloody work.” 

“ This may be true,” rejoined the lieutenant, “ but as I 
have said, you will find it difficult to convince your judges 
of it. But you will receive a fair trial. There is one thing, 
however, that will stand in your favour, and that is a full 
and free confession. If you make this, and give me all the 
information you can in order to bring your late comrades 
to justice, your judges will perhaps be disposed to view 
your case leniently.” 

“ Wot more can I confess, sir,” said Dick, beginning to 
look a little more interested. “ I’ve already confessed 
that I wos made a pirate against my will, and that I’ve 
never done no murder — though I have plundered a little, 
just like the rest. As for helpin’ to bring my comrades to 
justice, I only wish as I know’d how, and I’d do it right off, 
I would.” 

Surly Dick’s expression of countenance when he said 
this, was a sufficient guarantee that he was in earnest. 


268 


GASCOYNE 


“ There is an island somewhere hereabout,” said the 
lieutenant, “ where the pirates are in the habit of hiding 
sometimes, is there not?” 

Surly Dick looked at his questioner slyly as he replied — 
“ There is, sir.” 

“ Do you not think it very likely that they may have 
run there now — that they may be there at this moment?” 

“It’s oncommon likely,” replied Dick with a grin. 

“ Can you direct me how to steer, in order to reach that 
island?” 

Surly Dick’s aspect changed. He became morose again, 
and looked silently at his feet for a few moments, as if he 
were debating something in his own mind. He was in 
truth perplexed; for, while he was extremely anxious to 
bring his hated comrades to justice, he was by no means 
so anxious to let the lieutenant into the secret of the trea¬ 
sures contained in the caverns of the Isle of Palms, all of 
which he knew would be at once swept hopelessly beyond 
his grasp if they should be discovered. He also reflected 
that if he could only manage to get his late companions 
comfortably hanged, and himself set free for having turned 
King’s evidence against them, he could return to the island 
and abstract the wealth it contained by degrees. The bril¬ 
liant prospect thus opened up to him was somewhat marred, 
however, by the consideration that some of the pirates 
might make a confession and let this secret be known, in 
which case his golden dreams would vanish. The difficulty 
of making up his mind was so great that he continued for 
some time to twist his fingers and move his feet uneasily in 
silence. 

Mulroy observed the pirate’s indecision, and although he 
knew not its cause to the full extent, he was sufficiently 


THE SANDAL-WOOD TRADER 


269 


acquainted with human nature to know that now was the 
moment to overcome the man, if he was to be overcome at 

all. 

“ Well, well,” he said, carelessly, “I’m sorry to see you 
throw away your only chance. As for the information you 
refuse to give, I can do without it. Perhaps I may find 
some of your late comrades when we make the island, who 
will stand witness against you . That will do, my man, you 
may go. Mr. Geoffrey ” (turning to a midshipman), 
11 will you accompany that pirate forward and see that he is 
put in irons.” 

“ But you don’t know where the island is,” said Surly 
Dick, anxiously, as the lieutenant was turning away. 

Mulroy turned back— “ No,” said he, “ but you ought 
to know that when a seaman is aware of the existence of an 
island, and knows that he is near it, a short time will suffice 
to enable him to find it.” 

Again he was about to turn away when Dick cried out — 
“ Stay, sir, will you stand by me if I shew you the way?” 

11 I will not deceive you,” said Mulroy, bluntly. “ If 
you shew me how to steer for this island, and assist me in 
every way that you can to catch these villains, I will report 
what you have done, and the judges at your trial will give 
what weight they please to the facts; but if you suppose 
that I will plead for such a rascal as you are, you very much 
mistake me.” 

A look of deep hatred settled on the pirate’s countenance 
as he said briefly — “ Well, I’ll shew you how to steer.” 

Accordingly Surly Dick, after being shewn a chart, and 
being made aware of the exact position of the ship, ordered 
the course to be altered to “ north-half-east.” As this was 
almost dead in the eye of the light breeze that was blowing, 


270 


GASCOYNE 


the Talisman had to proceed on her course by the slow 
process of tacking. 

While she was in the act of putting about on one of these 
tacks, the look-out reported “ a boat on the lee bow/’ 

“ Boat on the lee bow!” was passed from mouth to 
mouth, and the order was immediately given to let the 
frigate fall off. In another minute, instead of ploughing 
her way slowly and doggedly to windward, the Talisman 
ran swiftly before the breeze toward a dark object which 
at a distance resembled a boat with a mast and a small flag 
flying from it. 

“ It is a raft, I think,” observed the second lieutenant, 
as he adjusted the telescope more perfectly. 

“ You are right, and I think there is some one on it,” 
said Mulroy. “ I see something like a man lying on it, but 
whether he is dead or alive I cannot say. There is a flag, 
undoubtedly — but no one waves a handkerchief or a rag of 
any kind. Surely, if a living being occupied the raft he 
would have seen the ship by this time. Stay, he moves! 
No; it must have been imagination. I fear that he is dead, 
poor fellow. Stand by to lower a boat.” 

The lieutenant spoke in a sad voice, for he felt convinced 
that he had come too late to the aid of some unfortunate 
who had died in perhaps the most miserable manner in 
which man can perish. 

Henry Stuart did indeed lie on the raft a dead man to 
all appearance. Towards the evening of his third day, 
he had suffered very severely from the pangs of hunger. 
Long and earnestly had he gazed round the horizon, but 
no sail appeared. He felt that his end was approaching, 
and in a fit of despair and increasing weakness, he fell on 


THE SANDAL-WOOD TRADER 


271 


his face in a state of half consciousness. Then he began to 
pray, and, gradually, he fell into a troubled slumber. 

It was while he was in this condition, that the Talisman 
hove in sight. Henry had frequently fallen into this spe¬ 
cies of sleep during the last few hours, but he never con¬ 
tinued in it long, for the pains of thirst as well as hunger 
now racked his frame. Nevertheless, he was not much 
reduced in strength or vigour. A long slow process of 
dying would have still lain before the poor youth, had it 
been his lot to perish on that raft. 

A delightful dream came over him as he lay. A rich 
banquet was spread before him. With wolfish desire he 
grasped the food, and ate as he never ate before. Oh! it 
was a rare feast that! Each morsel was delicious; each 
draught was nectar. But he could not devour enough. 
There was a strange feeling in him that he could by no means 
eat to satisfaction. 

While he was thus feasting in dreams the Talisman drew 
near. Her bulwarks were crowded with faces gazing ear¬ 
nestly at the bit of red rag that fluttered in the breeze and 
the pile of loose spars on which the man’s form lay extended 
and motionless. 

Suddenly Henry awoke with a start, to find that his rich 
banquet was a terrible delusion! that he was starving to 
death — and that a large ship was hove-to within a few 
yards of him! 

Starting up on his knees, he uttered a wild shriek. Then, 
as the truth entered his soul, he raised his hand and gave 
a faint cheer. 

The revulsion of feeling in the crew of the Talisman was 
overpowering — a long, loud, tremendous cheer burst from 
every heart! 


272 


GASCOYNE 


“ Lower away!” was shouted to the men who stood at 
the fall-tackles of the boat! 

As the familiar sounds broke on Henry’s ear, he leaped 
to his feet, and waving his hand about his head, again 
attempted to cheer; but his voice failed him. Staggering 
backwards, he fell fainting into the sea. 

Almost at the same instant, a man leaped from the bul¬ 
wark of the frigate, and swam vigorously towards the raft. 
It was Richard Price, the boatswain of the frigate. He 
reached Henry before the boat did, and, grasping his in¬ 
animate form, supported him until it came up and rescued 
them both. A few minutes later Henry Stuart was restored 
to consciousness, and the surgeon of the frigate was admin¬ 
istering to him such restoratives as his condition seemed to 
require. 


THE SANDAL-WOOD TRADER 


273 


CHAPTER XXVI 

THE CAPTURE AND THE FIRE 

Eight days after the rescue of Henry Stuart from a horri¬ 
ble death, as related in the last chapter, the Talisman found 
herself, late in the afternoon, within about forty hours’ 
sail of Sandy Cove. 

Mulroy had visited the Isle of Palms, and found that the 
pirates had flown. The mate of the Avenger and his com¬ 
panions had taken advantage of the opportunity of escape 
afforded them by Gascoyne, and had hastily quitted their 
rendezvous with as much of the most valuable portion of 
their booty as the boat could carry. As this is their last 
appearance in these pages, it may be as well to say that 
they were never again heard of. Whether they perished in 
a storm, or gained some distant land, and followed their 
former leader’s advice — to repent of their sins — or again 
took to piracy, and continued the practice of their terrible 
trade under a more bloody-minded captain, we cannot tell. 
They disappeared as many a band of wicked men has dis¬ 
appeared before, and never turned up again. With these 
remarks we dismiss them from our tale. 

Surly Dick now began to entertain sanguine hopes that 
he would be pardoned, and that he would yet live to enjoy 
the undivided booty which he alone knew lay concealed in 
the Isle of Palms — for, now that he had heard Henry’s 
account of the landing of Gascoyne on the island, he never 
doubted that the pirates would fly in haste from a spot that 


274 


GASCOYNE 


was no longer unknown to others, and that they would be 
too much afraid of being captured to venture to return 
to it. 

It was then, with a feeling of no small concern that the 
pirate heard the look-out shout on the afternoon referred to, 
“ Sail ho!” 

“ Where away?” 

“ On the lee beam.” 

The course of the frigate was at once changed, and she 
ran down towards the strange sail. 

“ A schooner, sir,” observed the second lieutenant to 
Mr. Mulroy. 

“It looks marvellously like the Foam , alias the Avenger ,” 
observed the latter. “ Beat to quarters. If this rascally 
pirate has indeed been thrown in our way again, we will 
give him a warm reception. Why, the villain has actually 
altered his course, and is standing towards us.” 

“ Don’t you think it is just possible,” suggested Henry 
Stuart, “ that Gascoyne may have captured the vessel 
from his mate, and now comes to meet us as a friend?” 

“ I don’t know that,” said Mulroy, in an excited tone, 
for he could not easily forget the rough usage his vessel 
had received at the hands of the bold pirate. “ I don’t 
know that. No doubt Gascoyne’s mate was against him; 
but the greater part of the crew were evidently in his 
favour, else why the secret manner in which he was deprived 
of his command? No, No. Depend upon it the villain has 
got hold of his schooner and will keep it. By a fortunate 
chance we have again met; I will see to it that we do not 
part without a close acquaintance. Yet why he should 
throw himself into my very arms in this way, puzzles me. 
Ha! I see his big gun amidships. It is uncovered. No 


THE SANDAL-WOOD TRADER 


275 


doubt he counts on his superior sailing powers, and means 
to give us a shot and shew us his heels. Well, we shall see.” 

“ There goes his flag,” observed the second lieutenant. 

“ What! eh! It’s the Union Jack!” exclaimed Mulroy. 

“ I doubt not that your own captain commands the 
schooner,” said Henry, who had of course, long before this 
time, made the first lieutenant of the Talisman acquainted 
with Montague’s capture by the pirate, along with Alice 
and her companions. “ You naturally mistrust Gascoyne, 
but I have reason to believe that, on this occasion at least, 
he is a true man.” 

Mulroy returned no answer, for the two vessels were now 
almost near enough to enable those on board to distinguish 
faces with the telescope. A very few minutes sufficed to 
remove all doubts; and, quarter of an hour later, Montague 
stood on his own quarter-deck, receiving the congratula¬ 
tions of his officers, while Henry Stuart was seized upon 
and surrounded by his friends Corrie, Alice, Poopy, the 
missionary, and Ole Thorwald. 

In the midst of a volley of excited conversation Henry 
suddenly exclaimed, “ But what of Gascoyne? Where is 
the pirate captain?” 

“ Why, we’ve forgotten him,” exclaimed Thorwald, 
whose pipe was doing duty like a factory chimney. “ I 
shouldn’t wonder if he took advantage of us just now to 
give us the slip!” 

“ No fear of that,” said Mr. Mason. “ Poor fellow, he 
has felt your loss terribly, Henry, for we all believed that 
you were lost; but I am bound to confess that none of us 
have shewn a depth of sorrow equal to that of Gasooyne. 
It seems unaccountable to me. He has not shewn his face 
on deck since the day he gave up all hope of rescuing you, 


276 


GASCOYNE 


and has eaten nothing but a biscuit now and then, which 
he would suffer no one but Corrie to take to him.” 

“ Poor Gascoyne, I will go and relieve his mind,” said 
Henry, turning to quit the quarterdeck. 

Now, the noise created by the meeting of the two vessels 
had aroused Gascoyne from the lethargic state of mind and 
body to which he had given way. Coming on deck, he was 
amazed to find himself close to the Talisman. A boat lay 
alongside the Foam , into which he jumped, and, sculling 
towards the frigate, he stepped over the bulwarks just as 
Henry turned to go in search of him. 

The pirate captain’s face wore a haggard, careworn, 
humbled look, that was very different from its usual bold, 
lion-like expression. No one can tell what a storm had 
passed through the strong man’s breast while he lay alone 
on the floor of his cabin. The deep, deep sorrow — the re¬ 
morse for sin — the bitterness of soul when he reflected that 
his present misery was chargeable only to himself. A few 
nights had given him the aspect of a much older man. 

For a few seconds he stood glancing round the quarter¬ 
deck of the Talisman with a look of mingled curiosity and 
sadness. But when his eye fell on the form of Henry he 
turned deadly pale, and trembled like an aspen leaf. 

“Well, Gascoyne, my — my— friend ,” said the youth 
with some hesitation as he advanced. 

The shout that Gascoyne uttered on hearing the young 
man’s voice was almost superhuman. It was something 
like a mingled cheer and cry of agony. In another moment 
he sprang forward, and seizing Henry in his arms, pressed 
him to his breast with a grasp that rendered the youth 
utterly helpless. 

Almost instantly he released him from his embrace, and 


THE SANDAL-WOOD TRADER 


277 


seizing his hand, said, in a wild, gay, almost fierce manner — 

“ Come, Henry, lad, I have somewhat to say to you. 
Come with me.” 

He forced rather than led the amazed youth into the 
boat, sculled to the schooner, hurried him into the cabin, 
and shut and locked the door. 

We need scarcely say that all this was a matter of the 
deepest curiosity and interest to those who witnessed it; 
but they were destined to remain with their curiosity un¬ 
satisfied for some time after that. 

When Henry Stuart issued from the cabin of the Avenger 
after that mysterious interview, his countenance wore a 
surprised and troubled expression. Gascoyne’s, on the 
contrary, was grave and calm, yet cheerful. He was more 
like his former self. 

The young man was, of course, eagerly questioned as to 
what had been said to him, and why the pirate had shewn 
such fondness for him; but the only reply that could be got 
from him was, “ I must not tell. It is a private matter. 
You shall know time enough.” 

With this answer they were fain to be content — even 
Corrie failed to extract anything more definite from his 
friend. 

A prize crew was put on board the Foam , and the two 
vessels proceeded towards the harbour of Sandy Cove in 
company. 

Henry and his friends went in the Foam , but Gascoyne 
was detained a prisoner on board the Talisman. Montague 
felt that it was his duty to put him in irons, but he could 
not prevail on himself to heap unnecessary indignity on 
the head of one who had rendered him such good service, 


278 


GASCOYNE 


so he left him at large, intending to put him in irons only 
when duty compelled him to do so. 

During the night a stiff breeze amounting almost to a 
gale of fair wind sprang up, and the two vessels flew towards 
their destination, but the Foam left her bulky companion 
far behind. 

That night a dark and savage mind was engaged on board 
the Talisman in working out a black and desperate plot. 
Surly Dick saw, in the capture of Gascoyne and the Foam , 
the end of all his cherished hopes, and in a fit of despair and 
rage he resolved to be avenged. 

This man, when he first came on board the frigate, had 
not been known as a pirate, and afterwards, as we have 
seen, he had been treated with leniency on account of his 
offer to turn informant against his former associates. In 
the stirring events that followed he had been overlooked, 
and, on the night of which we are writing he found himself 
free to retire to his hammock with the rest of the watch. 

In the night, when the wind was howling mournfully 
through the rigging, and the greater part of the crew were 
buried in repose, this man rose stealthily from his ham¬ 
mock, and with noiseless tread found his way to a dark 
corner of the ship where the eyes of the sentries were not 
likely to observe him. Here he had made preparations for 
his diabolical purpose. Drawing a flint and steel from his 
pocket, he proceeded to strike a light. This was procured 
in a few seconds, and as the match flared up in his face it 
revealed the workings of a countenance in which all the 
strongest and worst passions of human nature had stamped 
deep and terrible lines. 

The pirate had taken the utmost care, by arranging an 
old sail over the spot, to prevent the reflection of the light 


THE SANDAL-WOOD TRADER 


279 


being seen. It revealed a large mass of oakum and tar. 
Into the heart of this he thrust the match, and instantly 
glided away, as he had come, stealthily and without noise. 

For a few seconds the fire smouldered, for the sail that 
covered it kept it down, as well as hid it from view. But 
such combustible material could not be smothered long. 
The smell of burning soon reached one of the marines sta¬ 
tioned on the lower-deck, who instantly gave the alarm; 
but almost before the words had passed his lips the flames 
burst forth. 

“ Fire! fire! fire!” 

What a scene ensued! There was confusion at first, for 
no sound at sea rings so terribly in the ear as the shout of 
“ Fire!” 

But speedily the stern discipline on board a man-of-war 
prevailed. Men were stationed in rows; the usual appli¬ 
ances for the extinction of fire were brought into play; 
buckets of water were passed down below as fast as they 
could be drawn. No miscellaneous shouting took place; 
but the orders that were necessary, and the noise of action, 
together with the excitement and the dense smoke that 
rolled up the hatchway, produced a scene of the wildest 
and most stirring description. 

In the midst of this the pirate captain, as might have 
been expected, performed a prominent part. His great 
physical strength enabled him to act with a degree of vigour 
that rendered his aid most valuable. He wrought with the 
energy of a huge mechanical power, and with a quick 
promptitude of perception and a ready change of action 
which is denied to mere mechanism. He tore down the 
bulk-heads that rendered it difficult to get at the place 
where the fire was; he hurled bucket after bucket of water 


280 


GASCOYNE 


on the glowing mass, and rushed, amid clouds of hot steam 
and suffocating smoke, with piles of wet blankets to smother 
it out. 

Montague and he wrought together. The young captain 
issued his orders as calmly as if there were no danger, yet 
with a promptitude and vigour that inspired his men 
with confidence. Gascoyne’s voice was never heard. He 
obeyed orders and acted as circumstances required, but he 
did not presume, as men are apt to do on such occasions, 
to give orders and advice when there was a legitimate com¬ 
mander. Only once or twice were the deep tones of his 
bass voice heard, when he called for more water, or warned 
the more daring among the men when danger from falling 
timber threatened them. 

But all this availed not to check the flames. The men 
were quickly driven upon deck, and it soon became evident 
that the vessel must perish. The fire burst through the 
hatchways, and in a short time began to leap up the rigging. 

It now became necessary to make arrangements for the 
saving of the crew. 

“ Nothing more can be done, Mr. Mulroy,” said Mon¬ 
tague, in a calm voice that accorded ill with the state of 
his mind. “ Get the boats ready, and order the men to 
assemble on the quarter-deck.” 

“ If we were only nearer the island,” said Gascoyne, in 
a low tone, as if he were talking to himself, “ we might 
run her on the reef, and the breakers would soon put out 
the fire.” 

“ That would be little consolation to me,” said Montague, 
with a bitter smile. “ Lower the boats, Mr. Mulroy. The 
Foam has observed our condition, I see; let them row to it. 
I will go in the gig.” 


THE SANDAL-WOOD TRADER 


281 


The first lieutenant hastened to obey the order, and the 
men embarked in the boats, lighted by the flames, which 
were now roaring high up the masts. 

Meanwhile, the man who had been the cause of all this 
was rushing about the deck, a furious maniac. He had 
wrought at the fire almost as fiercely as Gascoyne himself, 
and now that all hope was past, he continued, despite the 
orders of Montague to the contrary, to draw water and 
rush with bucket after bucket into the midst of the roaring 
flames. At last he disappeared, no one knew where, and 
no one cared, for in such a scene he was soon forgotten. 

The last man left the ship when the heat on the poop 
became so great that it was scarcely possible to stand there. 
Still, Montague and Gascoyne stood side by side near the 
taffrail, and the gig with her crew floated just below them. 
The last boatful of men pulled away from the burning 
vessel, and then Montague turned with a deep sigh and 
said — 

“ Now, Mr. Gascoyne, get into the boat. I must be the 
last man to quit the ship.” 

Without a word Gascoyne swung himself over the stern, 
and, sliding down by a rope, dropped into the boat. Mon¬ 
tague followed, and they rowed away. 

Just at that moment Surly Dick sprang on the bulwarks, 
and holding on by the mizzen-shrouds took off his hat and 
cheered. 

“Ha! ha!” he shrieked, with a fiendish laugh. “ I’ve 
escaped you, have I? escaped you — hurrah!” and with 
another wild shriek he leaped on the hot deck, and, seizing 
a bucket, resumed his self-imposed duty of deluging the 
fire with water. 

“ Pull, pull, lads! we can’t leave the miserable man to 


282 


GASCOYNE 


perish,” cried Montague, starting up, while the men rowed 
after the frigate with their utmost might. But in vain. 
Already she was far from them, and ever increased the dis¬ 
tance as she ran before the gale. 

As long as the ship lasted the poor maniac was seen dili¬ 
gently pursuing his work — stopping now and then to spring 
on the bulwarks and give another cheer. 

At last the blazing vessel left boats and schooner far 
behind, and the flames rose in great flakes and tongues 
above her top-masts, while the smoke rolled in dense black 
volumes away to leeward. 

While the awe-stricken crew watched her there came a 
sudden flash of bright white flame, as if a volcano had 
leaped out of the ocean. The powder-magazine had caught. 
It was followed by a roaring crash that seemed to rend the 
very heavens. A thick darkness settled over the scene — 
and the vessel that a few hours before had been a noble 
frigate, was scattered on the ocean a mass of blackened 


rums. 


THE SANDAL-WOOD TRADER 


283 


CHAPTER XXVII 

PLEADING FOR LIFE 

The Pacific is not always calm, but neither is it always 
stormy. We think it necessary to make this latter obser¬ 
vation, because the succession of short-lived gales and 
squalls which have been prominently and unavoidably 
brought forward in our tale might lead the reader to deem 
the name of this ocean inappropriate. 

The gale blew itself out a few hours after the destruction 
of the Talisman , and left the Foam becalmed within sight 
of Sandy Cove island, almost on the same spot of ocean 
where she lay when we introduced her to the reader in the 
first chapter. 

Although the sea was not quite so still now, owing to 
the swell caused by the recent gale, it was quite as glassy 
as it was then. The sun, too, was as hot and the sky as 
brilliant, but the aspect of the Foam was much changed. 
The deep quiet was gone. Crowded on every part of the 
deck, and even down in her hold, were the crew of the man- 
of-war, lolling about listlessly and sadly, or conversing 
with grave looks about the catastrophe which had deprived 
them so suddenly of their floating home. 

Gascoyne and Henry leaned over the stern in order to 
avoid being overheard by those around them, and con¬ 
versed in low tones. 

“But why not attempt to escape?” said the latter, in 
reply to some observation made by his companion. 


284 


GASCOYNE 


41 Because I am pledged to give myself up to justice.” 

44 No; not to justice,” replied the youth, quickly. 44 You 
said you would give yourself up to me and Mr. Mason. I 
for one won’t act the part of a — a-” 

44 Thief-catcher,” suggested Gascoyne. 

44 Well, put it so if you will; and I am certain that the 
missionary will not have anything to do with your capture. 
He will say that the officers of justice are bound to attend 
to such matters. It would be perfectly right in you to try 
to escape.” 

44 Ah! Henry, your feelings have warped your judg¬ 
ment,” said Gascoyne, shaking his head. 44 It is strange 
how men will prevaricate and deceive themselves when 
they want to reason themselves into a wrong course or out 
of a right one. But what you or Mr. Mason think or will 
do has nothing to do with my course of action.” 

44 But the law holds, if I mistake not, that a man is not 
bound to criminate himself,” said Henry. 

44 I know not and care not what the law of man holds,” 
replied the other, sadly. 44 I have forfeited my life to my 
country, and I am willing to lay it down.” 

44 Nay, not your life,” said Henry; 44 you have done no 
murder.” 

44 Well, then, at least my liberty is forfeited. I shall 
leave it to those who judge me whether my life shall be 
taken or no. I sometimes wish that I could get away to 
some distant part of the world, and there, by living the life 
of an honest man, try to undo, if possible, a little of what 
I have done. But, woe’s me, wishes and regrets come too 
late. No, I must be content to reap what I have sown.” 

44 They will be certain to hang you,” said the youth, 
bitterly. 



THE SANDAL-WOOD TRADER 


285 


“ I think it likely they will,” replied his companion. 

“ And would you call that justice?” asked Henry, 
sharply. “ Whatever punishment you may deserve, you do 
not deserve to die. You know well enough that your own 
word will go for nothing, and no one else can bear witness 
in your favour. You will be regarded simply as a notorious 
pirate. Even if some of the people whose lives you have 
spared while taking their goods should turn up, their testi¬ 
mony could not prove that you had not murdered others; 
so your fate is certain if you go to trial. Have you any 
right, then, to compass your own death by thus giving 
yourself up?” 

“ Ah! boy, your logic is not sound.” 

“But answer my question,” said the youth, testily. 

“ Henry, plead with me no longer,” said Gascoyne, in a 
deep, stern tone. “My mind is made up. I have spent 
many years in dishonesty and self-deception. It is per¬ 
haps possible that by a life devoted to doing good, I might 
in the long run benefit men more than I have damaged 
them. This is just possible, I say, though I doubt it; but 
I have promised to give myself up whenever this cruise is 
at an end, and I won’t break the last promise I am likely 
to give in this world; so do not attempt to turn me, boy.” 

Henry made no reply, but his knitted brows and com¬ 
pressed lips shewed that a struggle was going on within 
him. Suddenly he stood erect, and said firmly — 

“Be it so, Gascoyne. I will hold you to your promise. 
You shall not escape me!” 

With this somewhat singular reply, Henry left his sur¬ 
prised companion and mingled with the crowd of men who 
stood on the quarter-deck. 

A light breeze had now sprung up, and the Foam was 


286 


GASCOYNE 


gliding rapidly towards the island. Gascoyne’s deep voice 
was still heard at intervals issuing a word of command; for, 
as he knew the reefs better than anyone else on board, Mon¬ 
tague had intrusted him with the pilotage of the vessel into 
harbour. 

When they had passed the barrier-reef, and were sailing 
over the calm waters of the enclosed lagoon in the direction 
of Sandy Cove, the young officer went up to the pirate cap¬ 
tain with a perplexed air and a degree of hesitation that was 
very foreign to his character. 

Gascoyne flushed deeply when he observed him. “I 
know what you would say to me,” he said, quickly, “ You 
have a duty to perform. I am ready.” 

“ Gascoyne,” said Montague, with deep earnestness of 
tone and manner, “ I would willingly spare you this, but, 
as you say, I have a duty to perform. I would, with all 
my heart, that it had fallen to other hands. Believe me, 
I appreciate what you have done within the last few days, 
and I believe what you have said in regard to yourself and 
your career. All this, you may depend upon it, will oper¬ 
ate powerfully with your judges. But you know I cannot 
permit you to quit this vessel a. free man .' 1 

“ I know it,” said Gascoyne, calmly. 

“And — and-” (here Montague stammered and 

came to an abrupt pause). 

“ Say on, Captain Montague. I appreciate your gener¬ 
osity in feeling for me thus; but I am prepared to meet 
whatever awaits me.” 

“ It is necessary,” resumed Montague, “ that you should 
be manacled before I take you on shore.” 

Gascoyne started. He had not thought of this. He had 
not fully realised the fact that he was to be deprived of his 


THE SANDAL-WOOD TRADER 


287 


liberty so soon. In the merited indignity which was now 
to be put upon him, he recognised the opening act of the 
tragedy which was to terminate with his life. 

“ Be it so,” he said, lowering his head and sitting down 
on a carronade, in order to avoid the gaze of those who 
surrounded him. 

While this was being done, the youthful Corrie was in 
the fore-part of the schooner whispering eagerly to Alice 
and Poopy. 

“ O Alice, I’ve seen him!” exclaimed the lad. 

“ Seen who?” inquired Alice, raising her pretty little 
eyebrows just the smallest morsel. 

“ Why, the boatswain of the Talisman , Dick Price, you 
know, who jumped overboard to save Henry when he fell 
off the raft. Come, I’ll point him out.” 

So saying, Corrie edged his way through the crowd until 
he could see the windlass. Here, seated on a mass of chain 
cable, sat a remarkably rugged specimen of the British 
boatswain. He was extremely short, excessively broad, 
uncommonly jovial, and remarkably hairy. He wore his 
round hat so far on the back of his head that it was a 
marvel how it managed to hang there, and smoked a pipe 
so black that the most powerful imagination could hardly 
conceive of its ever having been white, and so short that 
it seemed all head and no stem. 

“ That’s him!” said Corrie, eagerly. 

“Oh! is it?” replied Alice, with much interest. 

“ Hee! hee!” observed Poopy. 

“ Stand by to let go the anchor,” shouted Montague. 

Instantly bustle and noise prevailed everywhere. The 
crew of the lost frigate had started up on hearing the order, 
but having no stations to run to, they expended the energy 


288 


GASCOYNE 


that had been awakened in shuffling about and opening an 
animated conversation in undertones. 

Soon the schooner swept round the point that had 
hitherto shut out the view of Sandy Cove, and a few min¬ 
utes later the rattling of the chain announced that the voy¬ 
age of the Foam had terminated. 

Immediately after a boat was lowered, and Gascoyne 
was conveyed by a party of marines to the shore, and 
lodged in the prison which had been but recently occupied 
by our friend John Bumpus. 

Mrs. Stuart had purposely kept out of the way when 
she heard of the arrival of the Foam. She knew Gascoyne 
so well that she felt sure he would succeed in recapturing 
his schooner. But she also knew that in doing this he 
would necessarily release Montague from his captivity, in 
which case it was certain that the pirate captain, having 
promised to give himself up, would be led on shore a pris¬ 
oner. She could not bear to witness this; but no sooner 
did she hear of his being lodged in jail than she prepared 
to visit him. 

As she was about to issue from her cottage, Henry met 
her and clasped her in his arms. The meeting would have 
doubtless been a warmer one had the mother known what 
a narrow escape her son had so recently had. But Mrs. 
Stuart was accustomed to part from Henry for weeks at a 
time, and regarded this return in much the same light as 
former homecomings, except in so far as he had news of 
their lost friends to give her. She welcomed him therefore 
with a kiss and a glad smile, and then hurried him into 
the house to inquire about the result of the voyage. 

li I have already heard of your success in finding Alice 
and our friends. Come, tell me more.” 


THE SANDAL-WOOD TRADER 


289 


“ Have you heard how nearly I was lost, mother?” 

“ Lost!” exclaimed the widow in surprise; “ no, I have 
heard nothing of that.” 

Henry rapidly narrated his escape from the wreck of the 
Wasp, and then, looking earnestly in his mother’s anxious 
face he said, slowly — 

“ But you do not ask for Gascoyne, mother. Do you 
know that he is now in the jail?” 

The widow looked perplexed. “ I know it,” said she. 
“ I was just going to see him when you came in.” 

“ Ah! mother,” said Henry, reproachfully, “ why did 
you not tell me sooner about Gascoyne? I-” 

He was interrupted here by Corrie and Alice rushing 
into the room, the latter of whom threw herself into the 
widow’s arms and burst into tears, while Master Corrie in¬ 
dulged in some eccentric bounds and cheers by way of 
relieving his feelings. For some time Henry allowed them 
to talk eagerly to each other; then he told Corrie and 
Alice that he had something of importance to say to his 
mother, and led her into an adjoining room. 

Corrie had overheard the words spoken by Henry just as 
he entered, and great was his curiosity to know what was 
the mystery connected with the pirate captain. This 
curiosity was intensified when he heard a half-suppressed 
shriek in the room where mother and son were closeted. 
For one moment he was tempted to place his ear to the 
key-hole! But a blush covered his fat cheeks at the very 
thought of acting such a disgraceful part. Like a wise 
fellow he did not give the tempter a second opportunity, 
but, seizing the hand of his companion, said — 

“ Come along, Alice, we’ll go seek for Bumpus.” 

Half-an-hour afterwards the widow stood at the jail door. 


290 


GASCOYNE 


The jailer was an intimate friend, and considerately retired 
during the interview. 

“ O Gascoyne, has it come to this?” She sat down beside 
the pirate, and grasped one of his manacled hands in both 
of hers. 

“ Even so, Mary, my hour has come. I do not complain 
of my doom. I have brought it on myself.” 

“But why not try to escape?” said Mrs. Stuart, ear- 
estly. “ There are some here who could aid you.” 

Here the widow attempted to reason with Gascoyne, as 
her son had done before, but with similar want of success. 
Gascoyne remained immovable. He did indeed betray deep 
emotion while the woman reasoned with him, in tones of 
intense earnestness; but he would not change his mind. 
He said that if Montague, as the representative of the law, 
would set him free in consideration of what he had recently 
done, he would accept of liberty; but nothing would induce 
him to attempt to escape. 

Leaving him in this mood, Mrs. Stuart hurried to the 
cottage where Montague had taken up his abode. 

The young captain received her kindly. Having learned 
from Corrie all about the friendship that existed between 
the widow and Gascoyne, he listened with the utmost con¬ 
sideration to her. 

It is impossible,” said he, shaking his head; “ I cannot 
set him free.” 

“ Do his late services weigh nothing with you?” pleaded 
the widow. 

“My dear madam,” replied Montague, sorrowfully, 
“ you forget that I am not his judge. I have no right to 
weigh the circumstances of his case. He is a convicted and 


THE SANDAL-WOOD TRADER 


291 


self-acknowledged pirate. My only duty is to convey him 
to England and hand him over to the officers of justice. I 
sympathise with you, indeed I do, for you seem to take his 
case to heart very much, but I cannot help you. I must 
do my duty. The Foam will be ready for sea in a few days, 
in it I shall convey Gascoyne to England.” 

11 O Mr. Montague, I do take his case to heart, as you 
say, and no one on this earth has more cause to do so. 
Will it interest you more in Gascoyne, and induce you to 
use your influence in his favour, if I tell you that — that — 
he is my husband /” 

“ Your husband!” cried Montague, springing up and 
pacing the apartment with rapid strides. 

“ Ay,” said Mrs. Stuart, mournfully, covering her face 
with her hands; “ I had hoped that this secret would die 
with me and him, but in the hope that it may help, ever so 
little, to save his life, I have revealed it to you.” 

“ Believe me, the secret shall be safe in my keeping,” 
said Montague, tenderly, as he sat down again and drew 
his chair near to that of Mrs. Stuart. “But, alas! I do not 
see how it is possible for me to help your husband. I will 
use my utmost influence to mitigate his sentence, but I 
cannot, I dare not set him free.” 

The poor woman sat pale and motionless while the cap¬ 
tain said this. She began to perceive that all hope was 
gone, and felt despair settling down on her heart. 

“ What will be his doom,” said she, in a husky voice, 
“ if his life is spared?” 

“I do not know. At least I am not certain. My 
knowledge of criminal law is very slight, but I should sup¬ 
pose it would be transportation for-” 



292 


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Montague hesitated, and could not find it in his heart 
to add the word “ life.” 

Without uttering a word Mrs. Stuart rose, and, stagger¬ 
ing from the^room, hastened with a quick unsteady step 
towards her own cottage. 


THE SANDAL-WOOD TRADER 


293 


CHAPTER XXVIII 

A PECULIAR CONFIDANT — MORE DIFFICULTIES, AND VARIOUS 
PLANS TO OVERCOME THEM 

When Alice Mason was a little child, there was a certain 
tree near her father’s house to which, in her hours of sor¬ 
row, she was wont to run and tell it all the grief of her over¬ 
flowing heart. She firmly believed that this tree heard and 
understood and sympathised with all that she said. There 
was a hole in the stem into which she was wont to pour her 
complaints, and when she had thus unburthened her heart 
to her silent confidant she felt comforted, as one feels when 
a human friend has shared one’s sorrows. 

When the child became older, and her sorrows were 
heavier and, perhaps, more real, her well-nurtured mind 
began to rise to a higher source for comfort. Habit and 
inclination led her indeed to the same tree, but when she 
kneeled upon its roots and leaned against its stem, she 
poured out her heart into the bosom of Him who is ever 
present, and who can be touched with a feeling of our 
infirmities. 

Almost immediately after landing on the island Alice 
sought the umbrageous shelter of her old friend and favour¬ 
ite, and on her knees thanked God for restoring her to her 
father and her home. 

To the same place the missionary directed his steps, for 
he knew it well, and doubtless expected to find his daughter 
there. 


294 


GASCOYNE 


“Alice, dear, I have good news to tell you,” said the 
missionary, sitting down beside hef. 

“ I know what it is!” cried Alice, eagerly. 

“ What do you think it is, my pet?” 

“ Gascoyne is to be forgiven! am I right?” 

Mr. Mason shook his head sadly — “ No, that is not 
what I have to tell you. Poor fellow, I would that I had 
some good news to give you about him; but I fear there is 
no hope for him — I mean as regards his being pardoned by 
man.” 

Alice sighed, and her face expressed the deepest tender¬ 
ness and sympathy. 

“ Why do you take so great an interest in this man, 
dear?” said her father. 

“ Because Mary Stuart loves him, and I love Mary 
Stuart. And Corrie seemed to like him, too, since he has 
come to know him better. Besides, has he not saved my 
life, and Captain Montague’s, and Corrie’s? Corrie tells 
me that he is very sorry for the wicked things he has done, 
and he thinks that if his life is spared, he will become a 
good man. Has he been very wicked, papa?” 

“Yes, very wicked. He has robbed many people of 
their goods, and has burnt and sunk their vessels.” 

Alice looked horrified. 

“ But,” continued her father, “ I am convinced of the 
truth of his statement — that he has never shed human 
blood. Nevertheless, he has been very wicked, and the 
fact that he has such a powerful will, such commanding 
and agreeable manners, only makes his guilt the greater, 
for there is less excuse for his having devoted such powers 
and qualities to the service of Satan. I fear that his judges 


THE SANDAL-WOOD TRADER 


295 


will not take into account his recent good deeds and his 
penitence. They will not pardon him.” 

“ Leave me here for a little, papa; I wish to think it over 
all alone.” 

Kissing her forehead, the missionary left her. When 
he was out of sight the little girl sat down, and, nestling 
between two great roots of her favourite tree, laid her head 
against the stem and shut her eyes. 

But poor Alice was not left long to her solitary medita¬ 
tions. There was a peculiarly attractive power about her 
which drew other creatures around her wherever she might 
chance to be. 

The first individual who broke in upon her was that ani¬ 
mated piece of ragged door-mat, Toozle. This imbecile 
little dog was not possessed of much delicacy of feeling. 
Having been absent on a private excursion of his own into 
the mountain when the schooner arrived, he only became 
aware of the return of his lost, loved, and deeply-regretted 
mistress, when he came back from his trip. The first 
thing that told him of her presence was his own nose, the 
black point of which protruded with difficulty a quarter of 
an inch beyond the mass of matting which totally extin¬ 
guished his eyes, and, indeed, every other portion of his 
head. 

“ O Toozle, how glad, glad, glad, I am to see you, my 
own darling Toozle!” cried Alice, actually shedding tears. 

Toozle screamed with delight. It was almost too much 
for him. Again and again he attempted to lick her face, 
a familiarity which Alice gently declined to permit, so he 
was obliged to content himself with her hand. 

On the present occasion Toozle behaved like a canine 
lunatic, and Alice was beginning to think of exercising a 


296 


GASCOYNE 


little tender violence in order to restrain his superabundant 
glee, when another individual appeared on the scene, and 
for a time, at least, relieved her. 

The second comer was our dark friend, Kekupoopi. She 
by some mischance had got separated from her young 
mistress, and immediately went in search of her. She 
found her at once of course, for, as water finds its level, so 
love finds its object without much loss of time. 

“ O Toozle; hee! hee! am dat you?” exclaimed Poopy, 
who was as much delighted in her way to see the dog as 
Alice had been. 

Now it happened that Jo Bumpus, oppressed with a feel¬ 
ing of concern for his former captain, and with a feeling of 
doubt as to the stirring events in which he was an actor 
being waking realities, had wandered up the mountain-side 
in order to indulge in profound philosophical reflections. 

Happening to hear the noise caused by the joyful meeting 
which we have just described, he turned aside to see what 
all the “ row ” could be about, and thus came unexpectedly 
on Alice and her friends. 

About the same time it chanced (for things sometimes 
do happen by chance in a very remarkable way), it chanced 
that Will Corrie, being also much depressed about Gas¬ 
coyne, resolved to take into his confidence Dick Price, the 
boatswain, with whom during the short voyage together 
he had become intimate. 

He found that worthy seated on a cask at the end of the 
rude pile of coral rocks that formed the quay of Sandy Cove, 
surrounded by some of his shipmates, all of whom, as well 
as himself, were smoking their pipes and discussing things 
in general. 

Corrie went forward and pulled Dick by the sleeve. 


THE SANDAL-WOOD TRADER 


297 


“ Hallo! boy, what d’ye want with me?” said the boat¬ 
swain. 

“ I want to speak to you.” 

“ Well, lad, fire away.” 

“ Yes, but I want you to come with me,” said the boy, 
with an anxious and rather mysterious look. 

“ Very good! — heave ahead,” said the boatswain, getting 
up, and following Corrie with a peculiarly nautical roll. 

After he had been led through the settlement and a con¬ 
siderable way up the mountain in silence, the boatswain 
suddenly stopped, and said — “ Hallo! hold on; my tim¬ 
bers won’t stand much more o’ this sort o’ thing. I was 
built for navigatin’ the seas,— I was not for cruisin’ on the 
land. We’re far enough out of ear-shot, I s’pose, in this here 
bit of a plantation. Come, what have ye got to say to me? 
You ain’t agoin’ to tell me the Freemason’s word, are ye? 
For, if so, don’t trouble yourself, I wouldn’t listen to it on 
no account w’atever. It’s too mysterious that is for me.” 

“ Dick Price,” said Corrie, looking up in the face of the 
seaman, with a serious expression that was not often seen 
on his round countenance, “ you’re a man.” 

The boatswain looked down at the youthful visage in 
some surprise. 

“ Well, I s’pose I am,” said he, stroking his beard com¬ 
placently. 

11 And you know what it is to be misunderstood, mis¬ 
judged, don’t you?” 

“ Well, now I come to think on it, I believe I have had 
that misfortune — specially w’en I’ve ordered the powder- 
monkeys to make less noise, for them younkers never do 
seem to understand me. As for misjudgin’, I’ve often an’ 
over again heard ’em say I was the crossest feller they ever 


298 


GASCOYNE 


did meet with, but they never was more out in their reckon¬ 
ing.” 

Corrie did not smile; he did not betray the smallest 
symptom of power either to appreciate or to indulge in jocu¬ 
larity at that moment. But feeling that it was useless to 
appeal to the former experience of the boatswain, he 
changed his plan of attack. 

“ Dick Price,” said he, “ it’s a hard case for an innocent 
man to be hanged.” 

“ So it is, boy,— oncommon hard. I once know’d a poor 
feller as was hanged for murderin’ his old grandmother. It 
was afterwards found out that he’d never done the deed; 
but he was the most incorrigible thief and poacher in the 
whole place, so it warn’t such a mistake after all.” 

“ Dick Price,” said Corrie, gravely, at the same time 
laying his hand impressively on his companion’s arm, “I’m 
a tremendous joker — awful fond o’ fun and skylarkin’.” 

“ ’Pon my word, lad, if you hadn’t said so yourself, I’d 
scarce have believed it. You don’t look like it just now, by 
no manner o’ means.” 

“ But I am though,” continued Corrie; “ and I tell you 
that in order to shew you that I am very, very much in 
earnest at this moment; and that you must give your mind 
to what I’ve got to say.” 

The boatswain was impressed by the fervour of the boy. 
He looked at him in surprise for a few seconds, then nodded 
his head, and said, “ Fire away!” 

“You know that Gascoyne is in prison!” said Corrie. 

“ In course I does. That’s one rascally pirate less on 
the seas, anyhow.” 

“ He’s not so bad as you think, Dick.” 


THE SANDAL-WOOD TRADER 


299 


“ Whew!” whistled the boatswain. ‘‘You’re a friend of 
his, are ye?” 

“ No; not a friend, but neither am I an enemy. You 
know he saved my life, and the lives of two of my friends, 
and of your own captain, too.” 

“ Well, there’s no denying that; but he must have been 
the means of takin’ away more lives than what he has 
saved.” 

“ No, he hasn’t,” cried Corrie, eagerly. “ That’s it, 
that’s just the point; he has saved more than he ever took 
away, and he’s sorry for what he has done; yet they’re 
going to hang him. Now, I say, that’s sinful — it’s not 
just. It shan’t be done if I can prevent it; and you must 
help me to get him out of this scrape — you must indeed, 
Dick Price.” 

The boatswain was quite taken aback. He opened his 
eyes wide with surprise, and putting his head to one side 
gazed earnestly and long at the boy as if he had been a rare 
old painting. 

Before he could reply, the furious barking of a dog 
attracted Corrie’s attention. He knew it to be the voice of 
Toozle. Being well acquainted with the locality of Alice’s 
tree, he at once concluded that she was there, and knowing 
that she would certainly side with him and that the side 
she took must necessarily be the winning side, he resolved 
to bring Dick Price within the fascination of her influence. 

“ Come, follow me,” said he; “ we’ll talk it over with a 
friend of mine.” 

The seaman followed the boy obediently, and in a few 
minutes stood beside Alice. 

Corrie had expected to find her there, but he had not 
counted on meeting with Poopy and Jo Bumpus. 


300 


GASCOYNE 


“ Hallo! Grampus, is that you?” 

“ Wot! Corrie, my boy, is it yourself? Give us your 
flipper, small though it be. I didn’t think I’d niver see ye 
agin, lad.” 

“No more did I, Grampus; it was nearly all up with us.” 

“ Ah! my boy,” said Bumpus, becoming suddenly very 
grave, “ you’ve no notion how near it was all up with me. 
Why you won’t believe it — I was all but scragged.” 

“ Dear me! what is scragged?” inquired Alice. 

“You don’t mean for to say you don’t know?” exclaimed 
Bumpus. 

“ No, indeed, I don’t.” 

“ Why, it means bein’ hanged. I was so near hanged, 
just a day or two back, that I’ve had an ’orrible pain in 
my neck ever since at the bare thought of it! But who’s 
your friend?” said Bumpus, turning to the boatswain. 

“Oh! I forgot him — he’s the boatswain of the Talisman. 
Dick Price, this is my friend, John Bumpus.” 

“ Glad to know you, Dick Price.” 

“ Same to you, and luck, John Bumpus.” 

The two sea-dogs joined their enormous palms, and shook 
hands cordially. 

After these two had indulged in a little desultory con¬ 
versation, Will Corrie, who, meanwhile, consulted with 
Alice in an undertone, brought them back to the point 
that was uppermost in his mind. 

“ Now,” said he, “ it comes to this,— we must not let 
Gascoyne be hanged.” 

“ Why, Corrie,” cried Bumpus, in surprise, “ that’s the 
very thing I was a-thinkin’ of w’en I corned up here and 
found Miss Alice under the tree.” 

“ I’m glad to hear that, Jo; it’s what has been on my 


THE SANDAL-WOOD TRADER 


301 


own mind all the morning. But Dick Price here is not 
convinced that he deserves to escape. Now, you tell him 
all you know about Gascoyne, and I’ll tell him all I know, 
and if he don’t believe us, Alice and Poopy will tell him 
all they know, and if that won’t do, you and I will take him 
up by the legs and pitch him into the sea!” 

11 That bein’ how the case stands — fire away,” said Dick 
Price with a grin, sitting down on the grass and busily filling 
his pipe. 

Dick was not so hard to be convinced as Corrie had 
feared. The glowing eulogiums of Bumpus, and the ear¬ 
nest pleadings of Alice, won him over very soon. He finally 
agreed to become one of the conspirators. 

“ But how is the thing to be done?” asked Corrie in 
some perplexity. 

“ Ah! that’s the pint,” observed Dick, looking pro¬ 
foundly wise. 

“ Nothin’ easier,” said Bumpus, whose pipe was by this 
time keeping pace with that of his new friend. “ The case 
is as clear as mud. Here’s how it is. Gascoyne is in 
limbo; well, we are out of limbo. Good. Then, all we’ve 
got for to do is to break into limbo and shove Gascoyne out 
of limbo, and help him to escape. It’s all square, you see, 
lads.” 

“ Not so square as you seem to think,” said Henry Stuart, 
who at that moment stepped from behind the stem of the 
tree, which had prevented the party from observing his 
approach. 

“ Why not?” said Bumpus, making room for the young 
man to sit beside Alice, on the grass. 

“ Because,” said Henry, “ Gascoyne won’t agree to 
escape.” 


302 


GASCOYNE 


“Not agree for to escape!” 

“ No. If the prison door were opened at this moment, 
he would not walk out.” 

Bumpus became very grave, and shook his head. “ Are 
ye sartin sure o’ this?” said he. 

“ Quite sure,” replied Henry, who now detailed part of 
his recent conversation with the pirate captain. 

“ Then it’s all up with him!” said Bumpus; “ and the 
pirate will meet his doom, as I once hear’d a feller say in a 
play — though I little thought to see it acted in reality.” 

“ So he will,” added Dick Price. 

Corrie’s countenance fell, and Alice grew pale. Even 
Poopy and Toozle looked a little depressed. 

“No, it is not all up with him,” cried Henry Stuart, 
energetically. “ I have a plan in my head which I think 
will succeed, but I must have assistance. It won’t do, 
however, to discuss this before our young friends. I must 
beg of Alice and Poopy to leave us. I do not mean to say 
I could not trust you, Alice, but the plan must be made 
known only to those who have to act in this matter. Rest 
assured, dear child, that I shall do my best to make it suc¬ 
cessful.” 

Alice sprang up at once. “ My father told me to follow 
him some time ago,” said she. “ I have been too long of 
doing so already. I do hope that you will succeed.” 

So saying, and with a cheerful “ Good-bye!” the little 
girl ran down the mountain-side closely followed by Toozle 
and Poopy. 

As soon as she was gone, Henry turned to his companions 
and unfolded to them his plan — the details and carrying 
out of which, however, we must reserve for another chapter. 


THE SANDAL-WOOD TRADER 


303 


CHAPTER XXIX 

BUMPUS IS PERPLEXED-MYSTERIOUS COMMUNINGS AND A 

CURIOUS LEAVE-TAKING 

“ It’s a puzzler,” said Jo Bumpus to himself — for Jo was 
much in the habit of conversing with himself; and a very 
good habit it is, one that is often attended with much profit 
to the individual, when the conversation is held upon right 
topics and in a proper spirit — “ it’s a puzzler, it'is; that’s 
a fact.” 

Having relieved his mind of this observation, the seaman 
proceeded to cut down some tobacoo, and looked remark¬ 
ably grave and solemn, as if “ it ” were not only a puzzler 
but an alarmingly serious puzzler. 

“ Yes, it’s the biggest puzzler as ever I corned across,” 
said he, filling his pipe — for John, when not roused, got 
on both mentally and physically by slow stages. 

“ Niver know’d its equal,” he continued, beginning to 
smoke, which operation, as the pipe did not “ draw ” well 
at first, prevented him from saying anything more. 

It was early morning when Bumpus said all this, and the 
mariner was enjoying his morning pipe in a reclining atti¬ 
tude on the grass beneath Alice Mason’s favourite tree, 
from which commanding position he gazed approvingly on 
the magnificent prospect of land and sea which lay before 
him, bathed in the light of the rising sun. 

“ It is wery koorious,” continued John, taking his pipe 
out of his mouth and addressing himself to it with much 
gravity — 11 wery koorious. Things always seems wot they 


304 


GASCOYNE 


isn’t, and turns out to be wot they didn’t appear as if they 
wasn’t; werry odd indeed, it is! Only to think that this 
here sandal-wood trader should turn out for to be Henry’s 
father and the widow’s mother — no, I mean the widow’s 
husband,— an’ a pirate, an’ a deliverer o’ little boys and 
gals out o’ pirates’ hands — his own hands, so to speak — 
not to mention captings in the Royal Navy, an’ not sich a 
bad feller after all, as won’t have his liberty on no account 
wotiver, even if it was gived to him for nothin’, and yet 
wot can’t git it if he wanted it iver so much; and to think 

that Jo Bumpus should come for to lend hisself to- 

Hallo! Jo, back yer tops’ls! Didn’t Henry tell ye that ye 
wasn’t to convarse upon that there last matter even with 
yerself, for fear o’ bein’ overheard and sp’ilin’ the whole 
affair? Come, I’ll refresh myself.” 

The refreshment in which Jo proposed to indulge was of 
a peculiar kind which never failed him — it was the perusal 
of Susan’s love-letter. 

He now sat up, drew forth the precious and much soiled 
epistle, unfolded and spread it out carefully on his knees, 
placed his pipe very much on one side of his mouth, in 
order that the smoke might not interfere with his vision, 
and began to read. 

“ ‘ Peeler's Farm' ah! Susan darlin’, it’s Jo Bumpus as 
would give all he has in the world, includin’ his Sunday 
close, to be anchored alongside o’ ye at that same farm! 
‘ Sanfransko.' I misdoubt the spellin’ o’ that word, Susan 
dear; it seems to me raither short, as if ye’d docked off 
its tail. Howsomever — 1 For John bumpuss '—O Susan. 
Susan! if ye’d only remember the big B, and there ain’t two 
esses. I’m sure it’s not for want o’ tellin’ ye, but ye was 
never great in the way ov memry or spellin’. P’raps it’s as 



THE SANDAL-WOOD TRADER 


305 


well. Ye’d ha’ bin too perfect, an’ that’s not desirable by 
no means — ‘ my darlin' Jo ’— ay, them's the words. It’s 
that as sets my ’art a b’ilin’-over-like.” 

Here Jo raised his eyes from the letter and revelled 
silently in the thought for at least two minutes, during 
which his pipe did double duty in half its usual time. Then 
he recurred to his theme, but some parts he read in silence, 
and without audible comment. 

11 Ay,” said he, “ 1 sandle-wood skooners, the Haf ov thems 
pints' — so they is, Susan. It’s yer powers o’ prophecy as 
amazes me — 1 an' The other hafs no beter '— a deal wus, 
Susan, if ye only know’d it. Ah! my sweet gal, if ye knew 
wot a grief that word * beter ’ wos to me before I diskivered* 
wot it wos, ye’d try to improve yer hand o’ write, an’ make 
fewer blots!” 

At this point Jo was arrested by the sound of footsteps 
behind him. He folded up his letter precipitately, thrust 
it into his left breast-pocket, and jumped up with a guilty 
air about him. 

11 Why, Bumpus, we have startled you out of a morning 
nap, I fear,” said Henry Stuart, who, accompanied by his 
mother, came up at that moment. “ We are on our way 
to say good-bye to Mr. Mason. As we passed this knoll 
I caught sight of you and came up to ask about the boat.” 

“ It’s all right,” said Bumpus, who quickly recovered 
his composure — indeed he had never lost much of it. 
“ I’ve bin down to Saunder’s store and got the ropes for 
your-” 

“ Hush! man, there is no need of telling me what they 
are for,” said Henry, with a mysterious look at his mother. 

“Why not tell me all, Henry?” said Mrs. Stuart; 
“ surely you can trust me?” 



306 


GASCOYNE 


“ Trust you, mother?” replied^jthe youth with a smile, 
“ I should think so; but there are reasons for my not telling 
you everything just now. Surely you can trust me? I 
have told you as much as I think advisable in the mean¬ 
time. Ere long I will tell you all.” 

The widow sighed and was fain to rest content. She 
sat down beside the tree while her companions talked to¬ 
gether apart in low tones. 

“ Now Jo, my man,” continued Henry, “ one of our 
friends must be got out of the way.” 

“ Wery good; I’m the man as ’ll do it.” 

“ Of course I don’t mean that he’s to be killed!” 

“In coorse not. Who is he?” 

“ Ole Thorwald.” 

“ Wot! the descendant o’ the Sea Kings, as he calls him¬ 
self?” 

“ The same,” said Henry, laughing at the look of sur¬ 
prise with which Bumpus received this information. 

“ What has he bin an’ done?” 

“ He has done nothing as yet,” said Henry; “ but he 
will certainly thwart our schemes if he hears of them. He 
has an inveterate ill-will to my poor father” (Henry 
lowered his voice as he proceeded), “ and I know has sus¬ 
picions that we are concocting some plan to enable him to 
escape, and watches us accordingly. I find him constantly 
hanging about the jail. Alas! if he knew how thoroughly 
determined Gascoyne is to refuse deliverance unless it 
comes from the proper source, he would keep his mind more 
at ease.” 

“ Don’t you think if you wos to tell him that Gascoyne 
is yer father he would side with us?” suggested Bumpus. 


THE SANDAL-WOOD TRADER 


307 


“ Perhaps he would. I think he would; but I dare not 
risk it. The easier method will be to outwit him.” 

“ Not an easy thing for to do, I’m afraid, for he’s a cute 
old feller. How’s it to be done?” asked Bumpus. 

“ By telling him the truth,” said Henry; “ and you must 
tell it to him.” 

“ Well, that is a koorious way,” said Bumpus with a 
broad grin. 

“ But not the whole truth,” continued Henry. “ You 
must just tell him as much as it is good for him to know, 
and nothing more; and as the thing must be done at once, 
I’ll tell you what you have got to say.” 

Here the young man explained to the attentive Bumpus 
the course that he was to follow, and having got him 
thoroughly to understand his part, he sent him away to 
execute it. 

Meanwhile he and his mother went in search of Mr. 
Mason, who at the time was holding a consultation with 
the chiefs of the native village, near the site of his burnt 
cottage. The consultation had just been concluded when 
they reached the spot, and the missionary was conversing 
with the native carpenter who superintended the erection of 
his new home. 

After the morning greeting, and a few words of general 
conversation, Mrs. Stuart said — 

“ We have come to have a talk with you in private, will 
you walk to Alice’s tree with us?” 

“ Certainly, my friend; I hope no new evils are about 
to befall us,” said the missionary, who was startled by the 
serious countenances of the mother and son, for he was 
ignorant of the close relation in which they stood to Gas¬ 
coyne, as, indeed, was every one else in the settlement, ex- 


308 


GASCOYNE 


cep ting Montague and his boatswain, and Corrie, all of 
whom were enjoined to maintain the strictest secrecy on 
the point. 

“ No, I thank God, all is well,” replied Mrs. Stuart; 
“ but we have come to say that we are going away.” 

“ Going away!” echoed the missionary in surprise. 
“When? — where to? — why? You amaze me, Mary.” 

“ Henry will explain.” 

“ The fact is, Mr. Mason,” said Henry, “ circumstances 
require my absence from Sandy Cove on a longer trip than 
usual, and I mean to take my mother with me. Indeed, to 
be plain with you, I do not think it likely that we shall 
return for a long time — perhaps not at all, and it is abso¬ 
lutely necessary that we should go secretly. But we could 
not go without saying good-bye to you.” 

“ We owe much to you, dear Mr. Mason,” cried the 
widow, grasping the missionary’s hand and kissing it. 
“We can never, never forget you; and will always pray 
for God’s best blessings to descend on you and yours.” 

“ This is overwhelming news!” exclaimed Mr. Mason, 
who had stood hitherto gazing from the one to the other in 
mute astonishment. “ But tell me, Mary ” (here he spoke 
in earnest tones), “ is not Gascoyne at the bottom of this?” 

“ Mr. Mason,” said Henry, “ we never did, and never 
will deceive you. There is a good reason for neither ask¬ 
ing nor answering questions on this subject just now. I 
am sure you know us too well to believe that we think of 
doing what is wrong, and you can trust us — at least my 
mother — that we will not do what is foolish.” 

“ I have perfect confidence in your hearts, my dear 
friends,” replied Mr. Mason; “ but you will forgive me if 
I express some doubt as to your ability to judge between 


THE SANDAL-WOOD TRADER 


309 


right and wrong when your feelings are deeply moved, as 
they evidently are from some cause or other, just now. 
Can you not put confidence in me? I can keep a secret, 
and may perhaps give good counsel.” 

“ No, no,” said Henry, emphatically; “ it will not do to 
involve you in our affairs. It would not be right in us 
just now to confide even in you. I cannot explain why — 
you must accept the simple assurance in the meantime. 
Wherever we go, we can communicate by letter, and I 
promise, ere long, to reveal all.” 

“ Well, I will not press you farther, but I will commend 
you in prayer to God. I do not like to part thus hurriedly, 
however. Can we not meet again before you go?” 

“ We shall be in the cottage at four this afternoon, and 
will be very glad if you will come to us for a short time,” 
said the widow. 

“That is settled, then; I will go and explain to the 
natives that I cannot accompany them to the village till 
to-morrow. When do you leave?” 

“ To-night.” 

“So soon! Surely it is not- But I forbear to say 

more on a subject which is forbidden. God bless you, my 
friends; we shall meet at four. Good-bye!” 

The missionary turned from them with a sad counte¬ 
nance, and went in search of the native chiefs; while Henry 
and his mother separated from each other, the former 
taking the path that led to the little quay of Sandy Cove, 
the latter that which conducted to her own cottage. 



310 


GASCOYNE 


CHAPTER XXX 

MORE LEAVE-TAKING — DEEP DESIGNS — BUMPUS IN A 
NEW CAPACITY 

On the particular day of which we are writing, Alice 
Mason felt an unusual depression of spirits. She had been 
told by her father of the intended departure of the widow 
and her son, and had been warned not to mention it to any 
one. In consequence of this, the poor child was debarred 
her usual consolation of pouring her grief into the black 
bosom of Poopy. It naturally followed, therefore, that 
she sought her next favourite — the tree. 

Here, to her surprise and comfort, she found Corrie 
seated on one of its roots, with his head resting on the 
stem, and his hands clasped before him. His general 
appearance was that of a human being in the depths of woe. 
On observing Alice, he started up, and assuming a cheerful 
look, ran to meet her. 

“ Oh! I’m so glad to find you here, Corrie,” cried Alice, 
hastening forward, “I’m in such distress! Do you know 

that-Oh!-I forgot papa said I was to tell nobody 

about it!” 

“ Don’t let that trouble you, Alice,” said Corrie, as they 
sat down together under the tree. ** I know what you were 
about to say — Henry and his mother are going away.” 

“ How do you know that? I thought it was a great 
secret!” 

“ So it is, a tremendous secret,” rejoined Corrie, with a 
look that was intended to be very mysterious; “ and I know 




THE SANDAL-WOOD TRADER 


311 


it, because I’ve been let into the secret for reasons which 
I cannot tell even to you, But there is another secret 
which you don’t know yet, and which will surprise you 
perhaps. I am going away, too!” 

“You,” exclaimed the little girl, her eyes dilating to 
their full size. 

“ Ay, me!” 

“ You’re jesting, Corrie.” 

“ Am I? I wish I was; but it’s a fact.” 

“ But where are you going to?” said Alice, her eyes 
filling with tears. 

“ I don’t know.” 

“ Corrie!” 

“ I tell you, I don’t know; and if I did know, I couldn’t 
tell. Listen, Alice, I will tell you as much as I am per¬ 
mitted to let out.” 

The boy became extremely solemn at this point, took the 
little girl’s hand, and gazed into her face as he spoke. 

“You must know,” he began, “ that Henry and his 
mother and I go away to-night-” 

“ To-night?” cried Alice, quickly. 

“ To-night,” repeated the boy. “ Bumpus and Jakolu 
go with us. I have said that I don’t know where we are 
going to, but I am pretty safe in assuring you that we are 
going somewhere. Why we are going, I am forbidden to 
tell — divulge, I think Henry called it, but what that 
means I don’t know. I can only guess it’s another word 
for tell, and yet it can’t be that either, for you can speak 
of telling lies, but you can’t speak of divulging them. How¬ 
ever, that don’t matter. But I’m not forbidden to tell you 
why I am going away. In the first place, then, I’m going 
to seek my fortune! Where I’m to find it remains to be 



312 


GASCOYNE 


seen. The only thing I know is, that I mean to find it 
somewhere or other, and then ” (here Corrie became very 
impressive), “ come back and live beside you and your 
father, not to speak of Poopy and Toozle.” 

Alice smiled sadly at this. Corrie looked graver than 
ever, and went on — 

“ Meanwhile, during my absence, I will write letters to 
you, and you’ll write ditto to me. I am going away be¬ 
cause I ought to go and be doing something for myself. 
You know quite well that I would rather stop beside you 
than go anywhere in this wide world, Alice; but that would 
be stupid. I’m getting to be a man now, and mustn’t go 
on shewin’ the weaknesses of a boy. In the second, or 
third place — I forget which, but no matter — I am going 
with Henry because I could not go with a better man; and 
in the fourth — if it’s not the fifth — place, I’m going be¬ 
cause Uncle Ole Thorwald has long wished me to go to sea, 
and, to tell you the truth, I would have gone long ago had 
it not been for you, Alice. There’s only one thing that 
bothers me.” Here Corrie looked at his fair companion 
with a perplexed air. 

“ What is that?” asked Alice sympathetically. 

“ It is that I must go without saying good-bye to Uncle 
Ole. I’m very sorry about it. It will look so ungrateful 
to him; but it can't be helped.” 

“ Why not?” inquired Alice. “ If he has often said he 
wished you to go to sea, would he not be delighted to hear 
that you are going?” 

“ Yes; but he must not know that I am going to-night, 
and with Henry Stuart.” 

“ Why not?” 

“Ah! that’s the point. Mystery! Alice — mystery! 


THE SANDAL-WOOD TRADER 


313 


What a world of mystery this is!” observed the precocious 
Corrie, shaking his head with profound solemnity. “ I’ve 
been involved (I think that’s the word), rolled up, drowned, 
and buried in mystery for more than three weeks, and I’m 
beginning to fear that I’ll never again git into the unmys- 
teriously happy state in which I lived before this abomina¬ 
ble man-of-war came to the island. No, Alice, I dare not 
say anything more on that point even to you just now. 
But won't I give it you all in my first letter? and won't you 
open your eyes just until they look like two blue saucers?” 

Further conversation between the friends was interrupted 
at this point by the inrushing of Toozle, followed up by 
Poopy, and, a short time after, by Mr. Mason, who took 
Alice away with him, and left poor Corrie disconsolate. 

While this was going on, John Bumpus was fulfilling his 
mission to Ole Thorwald. 

He found that obstinate individual in his own parlour, 
deep in the investigation of the state of his books of busi¬ 
ness, which had been allowed to fall into arrear during his 
absence. 

“ Come in, Bumpus. So I hear you were half-hanged 
when we were away.” 

Ole wheeled round on his stool and hooked his thumbs 
into the arm-holes of his vest as he said this, leaned his 
back against his desk, and regarded the seaman with a 
facetious look. 

“ Half-hanged, indeed,” said Bumpus, indignantly. “ I 
was more than half — three-quarters at least. Why, the 
worst of it’s over w’en the rope’s round your neck.” 

“ That is a matter which you can’t speak to, John Bum¬ 
pus, seeing that you’ve never gone beyond the putting of 
the rope round your neck.” 


314 


GASCOYNE 


“ Well, I’m content with wot I does happen to know 
about it,” remarked Jo, making a wry face; 44 an’ I hope 
that I’ll never git the chance of knowin’ more. But I 
corned here on business, Mr. Thorwald,” (here John be¬ 
came mysterious and put his finger to his lips). 44 I’ve 
corned here, Mr. Thorwald, to — split.” 

As Ole did not quite understand the meaning of this 
word, and did not believe that the seaman actually meant 
to rend himself from head to foot, he said — 44 Why, Bum- 
pus, what d’ye mean?” 

“ I mean as how that I’ve corned to split on my com¬ 
rades— w’ich means, I’m goin’ to tell upon ’em.” 

“ Oh!” exclaimed Ole, eyeing the man with a look of 
distrust. 

“ Yes,” pursued Bumpus, “I’m willin’ to tell ye all about 
it, and prevent his escape, if you’ll only promise, on yer 
word as a gin’lmun, that ye won’t tell nobody else, but six 
niggers, who are more than enough to sarve your turn.” 

“ Prevent whose escape?” said Thorwald with an excited 
look. 

44 Gascoyne’s.” 

Ole jumped off his stool and hit his left palm a sounding 
blow with his right fist. 

44 I knew it!” he exclaimed, staring into the face of the 
seaman. 44 I was sure of it! I said it! But how d’ye know, 
my man?” 

“Ah! I’ll not say another word if ye don’t promise to 
let me go free, and only take six niggers with ye.” 

44 Well, Bumpus, I do promise, on the word of a true 
Norseman, which is much better than that of a gentleman, 
that no harm shall come to you if you tell me all you know 
of this matter. But I will promise nothing more; because 


THE SANDAL-WOOD TRADER 


315 


if you won’t tell me, you have told me enough to enable 
me to take such measures as will prevent Gascoyne from 
escaping.” 

“ No, ye can’t prevent it,” said Bumpus, with an air of 
indifference. 41 If ye don’t choose to come to my way o’ 
thinkin’, ye can take yer own coorse. But, let me tell you, 
there’s more people on the island that will take Gascoyne’s 
part than ye think of. There’s the whole crew of the 
Talisman , whose cap’n he saved, and a lot besides; an’ if 
ye do come to a fight about it, ye’ll have a pretty tough 
scrimmage. Ther’ll be blood spilt, Mr. Thorwald, an ’it 
was partly to prevent that as I corned here for. But you 
know best. You better take yer own way, an’ I’ll take 
mine.” 

The cool impudence of manner with which John Bumpus 
said this had its effect on Ole, who, although fond enough 
of fighting against enemies, had no sort of desire to fight 
against friends, especially for the sake of a pirate. 

44 Come, Bumpus,” said he, 44 you and I understand each 
other. Let us talk the thing over calmly. I’ve quite as 
much objection to see unnecessary bloodshed as you have. 
We have had enough of that lately. Tell me what you 
know, and I promise to do what you recommend as far as 
I can in reason.” 

44 Do you promise to let no one else know wot I tell ye?” 

44 I do.” 

44 An’ d’ye promise to take no more than six niggers to 
prewent this escape?” 

44 Will six be enough?” 

44 Plenty; but, if that bothers ye, say twelve; I’m not 
partic’lar — say twelve. That’s more than enough, for 
they’ll only have four to fight with.” 


316 


GASCOYNE 


“ Well, I promise that too.” 

“ Good. Now I’ll tell ye all about it,” said Bumpus. 
“ You see, although I’m splittin’, I don’t want to get my 
friends into trouble, and so I got you to promise; an’ trust 
to yer word, Mr. Thorwald — you bein’ a gen’lmun. This 
is how it is. Young Henry Stuart thinks that although 
Gascoyne is a pirate, or, rather, was a pirate, he don’t de¬ 
serve to be hanged. ’Cause why? Firstly, he never com¬ 
mitted no murder; secondly, he saved the lives o’ some of 
your people — Alice Mason among the rest; and, thirdly, 
he’s an old friend o’ the family as has done ’em good sar- 
vice long ago. So Henry’s made up his mind that, as 
Gascoyne’s sure to be hanged if he’s tried, it’s his duty to 
prewent that there from happenin’ of. Now, ye see, Gas¬ 
coyne is quite willin’ to escape-” 

“ Hah! the villain!” exclaimed Ole; “ I was sure of that. 
I knew well enough that all his smooth-tongued humility 
was hypocrisy. I’m sorry for Henry, and don’t wish to 
thwart him; but it’s clearly my duty to prevent this escape 
if I can.” 

“So I think, sir,” said Bumpus; “so I think. That’s 
just w’at I said to myself w’en I made up my mind for to 
split. Gascoyne bein’ willin’ then, Henry has bribed the 
jailer, and he intends to open the jail door for him at twelve 
o’clock this night, and he’ll know w’at to do with his legs 
w’en he’s got ’em free.” 

“ But how am I to prevent his escape if I do not set a 
strong guard over the prison?” exclaimed Ole, in an ex¬ 
cited manner. “If he once gets into the mountains I 
might as well try to catch a hare.” 

“ All fair and softly, Mr. Thorwald. Don’t take on so. 
It ain’t two o’clock yet; we’ve lots o’ time. Henry has 



THE SANDAL-WOOD TRADER 


317 


arranged to get a boat ready for him. At twelve o’clock 
to-night the doors will be opened and he’ll start for the 
boat. It will lie concealed among the rocks off the Long 
Point. There’s no mistakin’ the spot, just west of the 
village; an’ if you place your niggers there you’ll have as 
good a chance as need be to nab ’em. Indeed, there’s two 
boats to be in waitin’ for the pirate captain and his friends 
— set ’em up!” 

“ And where is the second boat to be hidden?” asked 
Ole. 

“I’m not sure of the exact spot, but it can’t be very 
far off from the tother, cer’nly not a hundred miles,” said 
Bumpus with a grin. “ Now, wot I want is, that if ye 
get hold of the pirate ye’ll be content, an’ not go an’ peach 
on Henry an’ his comrades. They’ll be so ashamed o’ 
themselves at bein’ nabbed in the wery act that they’ll give 
it up as a bad job. Besides, ye can then go an’ give him 
in charge of Capting Montague. But if ye try to prewent 
the escape bein’ attempted, Henry will take the bloody 
way of it — for I tell you his birse is up, an’ no mistake.” 

“ How many men are to be with Gascoyne?” asked Thor- 
wald, who, had he not been naturally a stupid man, must 
have easily seen through this clumsy attempt to blind him. 

“ Just four,” answered Bumpus; “ an’ I’m to be one of 
’em.” 

“Well, Bumpus, I’ll take your advice. I shall be at 
the Long Point before twelve, with a dozen niggers, and 
I’ll count on you lending us a hand.” 

“ No, ye mustn’t count on that, Mr. Thorwald. Surely 
it’s enough if I run away and leave the others to fight.” 

“ Very well, do as you please,” said Thorwald, with a 
look of contempt. 


318 


GASCOYNE 


44 Good day, Mr. Thorwald. You’ll be sure to be there?” 

44 Trust me.” 

44 An’ you’ll not say a word about it to nobody?” 

14 Not a syllable.” 

44 That’s all square. You’ll see the boat w’en ye git 
there, and as long as ye see that boat yer all right. Good 
day, sir.” 

John Bumpus left Thorwald’s house chuckling, and 
wended his way to the widow’s cottage, whistling the 
44 Groves of Blarney.” 


THE SANDAL-WOOD TRADER 


319 


CHAPTER XXXI 

THE AMBUSH-THE ESCAPE-RETRIBUTIVE JUSTICE- 

AND CONCLUSION 

An hour before the appointed time Ole Thorwald, under 
cover of a dark night, stole out of his own dwelling with 
slow and wary step, and crossed the little plot of ground 
that lay in front of it with the sly and mysterious air of a 
burglar, rather than that of an honest man. 

Outside his gate he was met in the same cautious manner 
by a dark-skinned human being, the character of whose 
garments was something between those of a sailor and a 
West India planter. This was Sambo, Thorwald’s major- 
domo, clerk, overseer, and right-hand man. Sambo was 
not his proper name, but his master, regarding him as 
being the embodiment of all the excellent qualities that 
could by any possibility exist in the person of a South Sea 
islander, had bestowed upon him the generic name of the 
dark race, in addition to that wherewith Mr. Mason had 
gifted him on the day of his baptism. 

Sambo and his master exchanged a few words in low 
whispers, and then gliding down the path that led from 
the stout merchant’s house to the south side of the village, 
they entered the woods that lined the shore, like two men 
bent on a purpose which might or might not be of the 
blackest possible kind. 

“ I don’t half like this sort of work, Sambo,” observed 
Thorwald, speaking and treading with less caution as they 
left the settlement behind them. “ Ambushments, and 


320 


GASCOYNE 


surprises, and night forages, especially when they include 
Goats’ Passes, don’t suit me at all. I have a strong antip¬ 
athy to everything in the way of warfare, save a fair field 
and no favour under the satisfactory light of the sun.” 

“ Ho!” remarked Sambo, and the grin with which the 
remark was accompanied seemed to imply that he not only 
appreciated his master’s sentiment, but agreed with it 
entirely. 

“ You’ve got eleven men, I trust, Sambo?” 

“ Yes, mass’r.” 

11 All good and true, I hope? men who can be trusted 
both in regard to their fighting qualities, and their ability 
to hold their tongues?” 

“ Dumb as owls, ebery von,” returned Sambo. 

“ Good! You see, my man, I must not permit that fellow 
to escape; at the same time I do not wish to blazon abroad 
that it is my friend Henry Stuart who is helping him. 
Neither do I wish to run the risk of killing my friends in a 
scrimmage, if they are so foolish as to resist me; therefore 
I am particular about the men you have told off for this 
duty. Where did you say they are to meet us?” 

“ Close by de point, mass’r.” 

A few minutes’ walk brought them to the point where 
the men were awaiting them. As far as Ole could judge, 
by the dim light of a few stars that struggled through the 
cloudy sky, they were eleven as stout fellows as any war¬ 
rior could desire to have at his back in a hand to hand con¬ 
flict. They were all natives, clothed much in the same 
manner as Sambo, and armed with heavy clubs, for, as we 
have seen, Thorwald was resolved that this should be a 
bloodless victory. 

“ Whereabout is the boat?” whispered Ole to his hench- 


THE SANDAL-WOOD TRADER 321 

man, as he groped his way down the rocky slopes towards 
the shore. 

** ’Bout two hondr’d yards more farder in front,” said 
Sambo. 

11 Then I’ll place the men here,” said Ole, turning to the 
natives who were following close at his heels. “ Now, 
boys, remain under cover of this rock till I lead you on to 
the attack; and mind what I say to you — no killing! 
Some of the party are my friends, d’ye understand? I don’t 
want to do them a damage, but I do want to prevent their 
letting off as great a villain, I believe, as ever sailed the 
ocean under a black flag — only his was a red one. 

Having delivered this address to his followers, who by 
their “ Ho’s ” and grins indicated their perfect readiness to 
do as they were bid, Ole Thorwald left them in ambush, 
and groped his way down to the beach, accompanied by 
Sambo. 

“ Did you bring the chain and padlock, Sambo?” 

“ Yis, mass’r. But you no tink it am berer to take boat 
away — pull him out ob sight?” 

“ No, Sambo, I have thought on that subject already, 
and have come to the conclusion that it is better to let the 
boat remain. You see they have placed it in such a way 
that as long as daylight lasted it could be seen from the 
settlement, and even now it is visible at some distance, as 
you see. If we were to remove it they would at once ob¬ 
serve that it was gone, and thus be put on their guard. 
No, no, Sambo. I may not be fond of ambushments, but I 
flatter myself that I have some talent for such matters.” 

The master and servant had reached the beach by this 
time, where they found the boat in the exact position that 
had been indicated by John Bumpus. It lay behind a low 


322 


GASCOYNE 


piece of coral rock, fastened to an iron ring by means of a 
rope, while the oars lay in readiness on the thwarts. 

Sambo now produced a heavy iron chain with which the 
boat was speedily fastened to the ring. It was secured 
with a large padlock, the key of which Ole placed in his 
pocket. 

This being satisfactorily accomplished, they returned to 
the place of ambush. 

“ Now, Mister Gascoyne,” observed Thorwald with a 
grim smile, as he sat down beside his men and pulled out 
his watch, “ I will await your pleasure. It is just half¬ 
past eleven; if you are a punctual man, as Jo Bumpus led 
me to believe, I will try your metal in half-an-hour, and 
have you back in your cage before one o’clock. What say 
you to that, Sambo?” 

The faithful native opened his huge mouth wide and 
shut his eyes, thereby indicating that he laughed, but he 
said nothing, bad, good, or indifferent, to his master’s face¬ 
tious observation. The other natives also grinned in a 
quiet but particularly knowing manner, after which the 
whole party relapsed into profound silence and kept their 
midnight watch with exemplary patience and eager expec¬ 
tation. 

At this same hour the pirate captain was seated in his 
cell on the edge of the low bedstead, with his elbows rest¬ 
ing on his knees and his face buried in his hands. 

The cell was profoundly dark — so dark that the figure of 
the prisoner could scarcely be distinguished. 

Gascoyne did not move for many minutes, but once or 
twice a deep sigh escaped him, shewing that although his 
body was at rest, his thoughts were busy. At last he 
moved and clasped his hands together violently as if under 


THE SANDAL-WOOD TRADER 


323 


a strong impulse. In doing so, the clank of his chains 
echoed harshly through the cell. This seemed to change 
the current of his thoughts, for he again covered his face 
with both hands and began to mutter to himself. 

“ Ay,” said he, “ it has come at last. How often I have 
dreamed of this when I was free and roaming over the 
wide ocean. I would say that I have been a fool did I not 
feel that I have more cause to bow my head and confess 
that I am a sinner. Ah! what a thing, pride is. How 
little do men know what it has cost me to humble myself 
before them as I have done; yet I feel no shame in confess¬ 
ing it here, when I am all alone. Alone! am I alone?” 

The pirate relapsed into silence, and a low groan escaped 
him. But his thoughts seemed too powerful to be re¬ 
strained within his breast, for they soon broke forth again 
in words. 

11 I don’t fear death. I have often faced it, and I don’t 
remember ever feeling afraid of death. Yet I shrink from 
death now. Why is this? What a mystery my thoughts 
and feelings are to me. I know not what to think. But 
it will soon be over, for I feel certain that I shall be doomed 
to die. God help me!” 

Gascoyne again became silent. When he had remained 
thus a few minutes his attention was roused by the sound 
of footsteps and of whispering voices close under his win¬ 
dow. Presently the key was put in the lock, the heavy 
bolt shot back, and the door creaked on its hinges as it 
opened slowly. 

Gascoyne knew by the sound that several men entered 
the cell, but as they carried no light he could not tell how 
many there were. He was of course surprised at a visit at 
such an unusual hour, as well as at the stealthy manner 


324 


GASCOYNE 


in which his visitors entered; but having made up his 
mind to submit quietly to whatever was in store for him, 
and knowing that he could not hope for much tenderness 
at the hands of the inhabitants of Sandy Cove, he was not 
greatly disturbed. Still, he would not have been human 
had not his pulse quickened under the influence of a strong 
desire to spring up and defend himself. 

The door of the cell was shut and locked as quietly as it 
had been opened; then followed the sound of footsteps 
crossing the floor. 

“ Is that you, jailer?” demanded Gascoyne. 

“ Ye’ll know that time enough,” answered a gruff voice 
that was not unfamiliar to the prisoner’s ear. 

The others who had entered along with this man did 
not move from the door — at least, if they did so, there was 
no sound of footsteps. The man who ha$ spoken went to 
the window and spread a thick cloth over it. Gascoyne 
could see this, because there was sufficient light outside to 
make the arms of the man dimly visible as he raised them 
up to accomplish his object. The cell was thus rendered 
if possible, more impenetrably dark than beforp. 

“ Now, pirate,” said the man, turning round, and sud¬ 
denly flashing a dark lantern full on the stern face of the 
prisoner, “ you and I will have a little convarse together — 
by yer leave or without yer leave. In case there might be 
pryin’ eyes about, I’ve closed the porthole, d’ye see.” 

Gascoyne listened to this familiar style of address in 
surprise, but did not suffer his features to betray any 
emotion whatever. The lantern which the seaman 
(such he evidently was) carried in his hand threw a strong 
light wherever its front was turned, but left every other 
part of the cell in partial darkness. The reflected light 


THE SANDAL-WOOD TRADER 


325 


was, however, quite sufficient to enable the prisoner to see 
that his visitor was a short, thick-set man, of great physi¬ 
cal strength, and that three men of unusual size and 
strength stood against the wall, in the deep shadow of a 
recess, with their straw hats pulled very much over their 
eyes. 

“ Now, Mister Gascoyne,” began the seaman, sitting 
down on the edge of the small table beside the low pallet, 
and raising the lantern a little, while he gazed earnestly 
into the prisoner’s face, “ I’ve reason to believe-” 

“ Ha! you are the boatswain of the Talisman ,” ex¬ 
claimed Gascoyne, as the light reflected from his own 
countenance irradiated that of Dick Price, whom, of course, 
he had seen frequently while they were on board the frigate 
together. 

“ No, mister pirate,” said Dick; “ I am not the bo’s’n of 
the Talisman , else I shouldn’t be here this night. I wos 
the bo’s’n of that unfortunate frigate, but I is so no longer.” 

Dick said this in a melancholy tone, and thereafter medi¬ 
tated for a few moments in silence. 

“ No,” he resumed with a heavy sigh, “ the Talisman's 
blow’d up, an’ her bo’s’n’s out on the spree — so to speak, 
— though it ain’t a cheerful spree by no means. But to 
come back to the pint (w’ich wos wot the clergyman said 
w’en he’d got so far away from the pint that he never did 
get back to it), as I wos sayin’, or was agoin’ to say w’en 
you prewented me, I’ve reason to b’lieve you’re agoin’ to 
try for to make yer escape.” 

“You are mistaken, my man,” said Gascoyne, with a 
sad smile; “ nothing is farther from my thoughts.” 

“ I don’t know how far it’s from yer thoughts,” said 



326 GASCOYNE 

Dick, sternly, “ but it’s pretty close to your intentions, so 
I’m told.” 

“ Indeed you are mistaken,” replied Gascoyne. “If 
Captain Montague has sent you here to mount guard he 
has only deprived you of a night’s rest needlessly. If I 
had intended to make my escape I would not have given 
myself up.” 

“ I don’t know that — I’m not so sure o’ that,” rejoined 
the boatswain stoutly. “ You’re said to be a obstinate 
feller, and there’s no sayin’ what a obstinate feller won’t do 
or will do. But I didn’t come here for to argify the ques¬ 
tion with you , Mister Gascoyne. Wot I corn’d here for wos 
to do my duty, so, now, I’m agoing to do it.” 

Gascoyne, who was amused in spite of himself by the 
manner of the man, merely smiled and awaited in silence 
the pleasure of his eccentric visitor. 

Dick now set down the lantern, went to the door and 
returned with a coil of stout rope. 

“You see,” observed the boatswain, as he busied him¬ 
self in uncoiling and making a running noose on the rope, 
“I’m ordered to prewent you from carryin’ out your in¬ 
tentions — wotiver these may be — by puttin’ a coil or two 
o’ this here rope round you. Now, wot I’ve got to ask of 
you is — Will ye submit peaceable like to have it done?” 

“ Surely this is heaping unnecessary indignity upon me?” 
exclaimed Gascoyne, flushing crimson with anger. 

“ It may be unnecessary, but it’s got to be done,” re¬ 
turned Dick, with cool decision, as he placed the end of a 
knot between his powerful teeth, and drew it tight. “ Be¬ 
sides, Mister Gascoyne, a pirate must expect indignities to 
be heaped upon him. However, I’ll heap as few as possi¬ 
ble on ye in the discharge of my duty.” 


THE SANDAL-WOOD TRADER 


327 


Gascoyne had started to his feet, but he sat down abashed 
on being thus reminded of his deserts. 

“ True,” said he; 44 true. I will submit.” 

He added in his mind, 44 I deserve this;” but nothing 
more escaped his lips, while he stood up and permitted the 
boatswain to pass the cord round his arms, and lash them 
firmly to his sides. 

Having bound him in a peculiarly tight and nautical 
manner, Dick once more went to his accomplices at the 
door, and returned with a hammer and chisel, and a large 
stone. The latter he placed on the table, and, directing 
Gascoyne to raise his arms — which were not secured below 
the elbows — and place his manacles on the stone, he cut 
them asunder with a few powerful blows, and removed 
them. 

44 The darbies ain’t o’ no use, you see, as we’ve got you 
all safe with the ropes. Now, Mister Gascoyne, I’m agoin’ 
to heap one more indignity on ye. I’m sorry to do it, d’ye 
see; but I’m bound for to obey orders. You’ll be so good 
as to sit down on the bed, for I ain’t quite so long as you — 
though I won’t say that I’m not about as broad — and let 
me tie this napkin over yer mouth.” 

44 Why?” exclaimed Gascoyne, again starting and look¬ 
ing fiercely at the boatswain; 44 this, at least, must be un¬ 
necessary. I have said that I am willing to submit quietly 
to whatever the law condemns me. You don’t take me 
for a woman or a child, that will be apt to cry out when 
hurt?” 

44 Certainly not; but as I’m goin’ to take ye away out o’ 
this here limbo, it is needful that I should prewent you 
from lettin’ people know that yer goin’ on your travels; 


328 GASCOYNE 

for I’ve heerd say there’s some o’ yer friends as is plottin’ 
to help you to escape.” 

“ Have I not said already that I do not wish to escape, 
and therefore will not take advantage of any opportunity 
afforded me by my friends? — Friends! I have no friends! 
Even those whom I thought were my friends have not been 
near my prison all this day.” 

Gascoyne said this bitterly, and in great anger. 

“ Hush!” exclaimed Dick; “ not quite so loud, mister 
pirate. You see there is some reason in my puttin’ this on 
your mouth. It’ll be as well to let me do it quietly, else 
I’ll have to get a little help.” 

He pointed to the three stout men who stood motionless 
and silent in the dark recess. 

“Oh, it was cowardly of you to bind my arms before 
you told me this,” said Gascoyne, with flashing eyes. “ If 
my hands were free now-” 

He checked himself by a powerful effort, and crushed 
back the boastful defiance which rose to his lips. 

“ Now, I’ll tell ye wot it is, Mister Gascoyne,” said Dick 
Price, “ I do believe yer not such a bad feller as they say 
ye are, an’ I’m disposed to be marciful to ye. If ye’ll give 
me your word of honour that you’ll not holler out, and that 
you’ll go with us peaceably, and do wot yer bid, I’ll not 
trouble you with the napkin, nor bind ye up more than 
I’ve done already. But ” (here Dick spoke in tones that 
could not be misunderstood), “if ye won’t give me that 
promise, I’ll gag ye and bind ye neck and heels, and we’ll 
carry ye out o’ this shoulder high. Now, wot say ye to 
that?” 

Gascoyne had calmed his feelings while the boatswain 
was speaking. He even smiled when he replied — “ How 



THE SANDAL-WOOD TRADER 


329 


can you ask me to give my word of honour? What honour 
has a pirate to boast of, think you?” 

“ Not much, pr’aps,” said Dick; “ howsomdever, I’ll be 
content with wot’s left of it; and if there ain’t none, why 
then, give us yer word. It’ll do as well.” 

“ After all, it matters little what is done with me,” said 
Gascoyne, in a resigned voice. 11 I am a fool to resist 
thus. You need not fear that I will offer any further resis¬ 
tance, my man. Do your duty, whatever that may be.” 

“ That won’t do,” said Dick stoutly; “ ye must promise 
not to holler out.” 

“ I promise,” said Gascoyne, sternly. “ Pray cease this 
trifling, and if it is not inconsistent with your duty, let me 
know where I am to be taken to.” 

“ That’s just wot I’m not allowed for to tell. But you’ll 
find it out in the coorse of time. Now, all that you’ve got 
to do is to walk by my side, and do wot I tell ye.” 

The prisoner made no answer. He was evidently weary 
of the conversation, and his thoughts were already wander¬ 
ing on other subjects. 

The door was now unlocked by one of the three men 
who stood near it. As its hinges creaked, Dick shut the 
lantern, and threw the cell at once into total darkness. 
Taking hold of Gascoyne’s wrist gently, as if to guide, not 
to force him away, he conducted him along the short pas¬ 
sage that led to the outer door of the prison. This was 
opened and the whole party stood in the open air. 

Gascoyne looked with feelings of curiosity at the men 
who surrounded him, but the night was so intensely dark 
that their features were invisible. He could just discern 
the outlines of their figures, which were enveloped in large 
cloaks. He was on the point of speaking to them, when 


330 


GASCOYNE 


he remembered his promise to make no noise, so he re¬ 
strained himself, and followed his guard in silence. 

Dick and another man walked at his side — the rest fol¬ 
lowed in rear. Leading him round the outskirts of the 
village, towards its northern extremity, Gascoyne’s con¬ 
ductors soon brought him to the beach, at a retired spot, 
where was a small bay. Here they were met by one whose 
stature proved him to be a boy. He glided up to Dick> 
who said in a low whisper, 

41 Is all ready?” 

“ All right,” replied the boy. 

44 The ooman aboard?” 

44 Ay.” 

44 Now, Mr. Gascoyne,” said Dick, pointing to a large 
boat floating beside the rocks on which they stood, “ you’ll 
be so good as to step into that ’ere boat, and sit down beside 
the individual you see a-sittin’ there in the stern-sheets.” 

44 Have you authority for what you do?” asked Gas¬ 
coyne, hesitating. 

44 I have power to enforce wot I command,” said Dick> 
quietly. “ Remember yer promise, mister pirate, else — ” 

Dick finished his sentence by pointing to the three men 
who stood near — still maintaining a silence worthy of 
Eastern mutes; and Gascoyne, feeling that he was com¬ 
pletely in their power, stepped quickly into the boat, and 
sat down beside the “ individual ” referred to by Dick, who 
was so completely enveloped in the folds of a large cloak as 
to defy recognition. But the pirate captain was too much 
occupied with his own conflicting thoughts and feelings 
to bestow more than a passing glance on the person who 
sat at his side. Indeed it was not surprising that Gas¬ 
coyne was greatly perplexed by all that was going on at 


THE SANDAL-WOOD TRADER 


331 


that time; for he could not satisfactorily account to himself 
for the mystery and secrecy which his guards chose to main¬ 
tain. If they were legitimate agents of the law, why these 
muffled oars with which they swept the boat across the 
lagoon, through the gap in the coral reef, and out to sea? 
And if they were not agents of the law, who were they, and 
where were they conveying him? 

The boat was a large one, half-decked, and fitted to stand 
a heavy sea and rough weather. It would have moved 
sluggishly through the water had not the four men who 
pulled the oars been possessed of more than average 
strength. As soon as they passed the barrier reef, the sails 
were hoisted, and Dick took the helm. The breeze was 
blowing fresh off the land, and the water rushed past the 
boat as she cut swiftly out to sea, leaving a track of white 
foam behind her. For a few minutes the mass of the island 
was dimly seen rising like a huge shade on the dark sky, 
but soon it melted away and nothing remained for the 
straining eyes to rest upon save the boat with its silent crew 
and the curling foam on the black sea. 

“ We’ve got him safe now, lads,” said Dick Price, speak¬ 
ing, for the first time that night, in unguarded tones, 
“ you’d better do the deed. The sooner it’s done the 
better.” 

While he was speaking one of the three men opened a 
large clasp knife and advanced towards Gascoyne. 

“ Father,” said Henry, cutting the rope that bound him, 
“ you are free at last!” 

Gascoyne started, but before he had time to utter the 
exclamation of surprise that sprang to his lips, his hand 
was seized by the muffled figure that sat at his side. 

“Oh! Gascoyne, forgive us — forgive me !” said Mary 


332 


GASCOYNE 


Stuart in a trembling voice. “ I did, indeed, know some¬ 
thing of what they meant to do, but I knew nothing of the 
cruel violence that these bonds-” 

“ Violence!” cried Dick Price, “ I put it to yourself, 
Mister Gascoyne, if I didn’t treat ye as if ye wos a lamb?” 

“ Wot a blissin’ it is for a man to git his mouth open 
agin, and let his breath go free,” cried Jo Bumpus, with a 
deep sigh. “Come, Corrie, give us a cheer — hip! hip! 
hip!-” 

The cheer that followed was stirring and wonderfully 
harmonious, for it was given in a deep bass, and a shrill 
treble, with an intermediate baritone “ Ho!” from Jakolu. 

“ I know it, Mary, I know it”; said Gascoyne, and there 
was a slight tremor in his deep voice as he drew his wife 
towards him, and laid her head upon his breast. “You 
have never done me an evil turn — you have done me noth¬ 
ing but good — since you were a little child. Heaven bless 
you, Mary!” 

“ Now, father,” said Henry, “ I suppose you have no 
objection to make your escape?” 

“ No need to raise that question, lad,” said Gascoyne, 
with a perplexed smile. “ I am not quite clear as to what 
my duty is now that I am free to go back and again give 
myself up.” 

“ Go back! — free!” exclaimed John Bumpus in a tone 
of withering sarcasm. “So, Mister Gascoyne, ye’ve got 
sich an oncommon cargo o’ conceit in ye yet, that you 
actually think ye could go back without so much as * By 
your leave! * ” 

While Jo was speaking he bared to the shoulder an arm 
that was the reverse of infantine, and, holding it up, said 
slowly — 




THE SANDAL-WOOD TRADER 


333 


“ I’ve often had a sort o’ desire, d’ye see, to try whether 
this bit of a limb, or the one that’s round Mrs. Stuart’s 
waist is the strongest. Now if you have any desire to 
settle this question, just try to shove this boat’s head up 
into the wind — that’s all!” 

This was said so emphatically by the pugnacious Bum- 
pus that his companions laughed, and Corrie cheered in 
admiration. 

“You see,” observed Henry, “ you need not give your¬ 
self any concern as to this point, you have no option in the 
matter.” 

“ No, not a bit o’ poption in it wotiver — though wot 
that means I ain’t rightly sure,” said Dick Price. 

“ Perhaps I ought to exercise my parental authority over 
you, Henry,” said Gascoyne, “ and command you to steer 
back to Sandy Cove.” 

“ But we wouldn’t let him, mister pirate,” said Dick 
Price, who, now that his difficult duties were over, was 
preparing to solace himself with a pipe; an example that 
was immediately followed by Bumpus, who backed his 
friend by adding — 

“ No more we would.” 

“ Nay, then, if Henry joins me,” said Gascoyne, “ I 
think that we two will not have a bad chance against you 
three.” 

“ Come, that’s good! so I count for nothing,” exclaimed 
Corrie. 

“ Ha! stick up, lad,” observed Bumpus. “ The niggers 
wot you pitched into at the mouth o’ yon cave didn’t think 
that — eh! didn’t they not?” 

“ Well, well, if Corrie sides with you I feel that my wisest 
course is to submit. And now, Henry,” said Gascoyne, 


334 


GASCOYNE 


resuming his wonted gravity of tone and demeanour, “ sit 
down here and let me know where we are going to and what 
you mean to do. It is natural that I should feel curious on 
these points even although I have perfect confidence in 
you all.” 

Henry obeyed, and their voices sank into low tones as 
they mingled in earnest converse about their future plans. 

Thus did Gascoyne, with his family and friends, leave 
Sandy Cove in the dead of that dark night, and sail away 
over the wide waste of the great Pacific Ocean. 

Reader, our tale is nearly told. Like a picture, it con¬ 
tains but a small portion of the career of those who have 
so long engaged your attention, and, I would fain hope, 
your sympathy. 

Yet there are main points, amid the details, which it 
would be unpardonable to pass over in silence. 

On a beautiful isle, at the time of our tale, the natives 
had begun to cultivate the arts of civilisation, and to appre¬ 
ciate, in some degree, the inestimable blessings of Chris¬ 
tianity. The plough had torn up the virgin soil, and the 
anchors of merchant-ships had begun to kiss the strand. 
The crimes peculiar to civilised men had not yet been 
developed. The place had all the romance and freshness 
of a flourishing infant colony. 

Early one fine morning, a half-decked boat rowed into 
the harbour of this isle, and ran alongside the little quay, 
where the few natives who chanced to be lounging there 
were filled with admiration at the sight of five stalwart 
men who leaped upon the rocks, an active lad who held 
the boat steady, and a handsome middle-aged woman, who 


THE SANDAL-WOOD TRADER 


335 


was assisted to land with much care by the tallest of her 
five companions. 

There were a few small bales of merchandise in the boat. 
These being quickly tossed ashore, one of the natives was 
asked to shew the way to the nearest store, where they 
might be placed in safe keeping. 

This done, the largest man of the party, who was clad in 
the rough garments of a merchant captain, offered his arm 
to the female, who was evidently his wife, and went off in 
search of the chief magistrate of the settlement, leaving his 
companions to look after the boat and smoke their pipes. 

The handsome stranger introduced himself to the magis¬ 
trate as Mr. Stuart; stated that he intended to settle on the 
island as a general merchant, having brought a few bales 
of merchandise with him; that he had been bred an engineer 
and a ship wright, and meant also to work at his old trade, 
and concluded by asking for advice and general informa¬ 
tion in regard to the state of trade on the island. 

After having obtained all the information on these sub¬ 
jects that the magistrate could give, insomuch that that 
functionary deemed him a perfect marvel of catechetical 
wisdom and agreeable address — the stalwart stranger pro¬ 
ceeded to inquire minutely into the state of religion and 
education among the natives and settlers, and finally left 
the charmed magistrate rejoicing in the belief that he was 
a most intelligent philanthropist, and would be an inestima¬ 
ble acquisition to the settlement. 

A small trading store was soon built. The stranger was 
not a rich man. He began in a humble way, and sought to 
eke out his subsistence by doing the ordinary work of a 
wright. In this latter occupation he was ably assisted by 
his stout son, Henry; for the duties of the store were 


336 


GASCOYNE 


attended to chiefly by the lad Corrie, superintended by 
Mrs. Stuart. 

The mysterious strangers were a source of much gossip 
and great speculation, of course, to the good people of 
Green Isle (as we shall style this gem of the Pacific, in 
order to thwart the myrmidons of the law!). They found 
them so reserved and uncommunicative, however, on the 
subject of their personal affairs, that the most curious gossip 
in the settlement at last gave up speculating in despair. 

At first the two seamen, whom people soon found out, 
were named respectively Jo and Dick, wrought in the 
wright’s workshop, and at all kinds of miscellaneous jobs; 
besides making frequent and sometimes long voyages in 
their boat to the neighbouring islands. As time flew by 
things seemed to prosper with the merchant. The keel of 
a little schooner was laid. Father and son, and seamen (as 
well as the native servant, who was called Jako) toiled at 
this vessel incessantly until she was finished — then, Henry 
was placed in command of her, Jo and Dick were appointed 
first and second mates, two or three natives completed the 
crew, and she went to sea under the somewhat peculiar 
name of the Avenger 1 

This seemed to be the first decided advance in the for¬ 
tunes of the new family. Business increased in a wonder¬ 
ful way. The Avenger returned again and again to the 
Green Isle laden with rich and varied commodities for the 
successful merchant. In course of time the old store was 
taken down, and a new one built; the Avenger was sold, and 
a large brig purchased, the rather pretty name of which — 
11 Evening Star ” — was erased, and the mysterious word 
Avenger put in its place. Everything, in short, betokened 
that Mr. Stuart was on the high road to fortune. 


THE SANDAL-WOOD TRADER 


337 


But there were some mysteries connected with the mer¬ 
chant which sorely puzzled the wisest heads in the place, 
and which would have puzzled still wiser heads had they 
been there. Although it soon became quite evident to the 
meanest capacity that Mr. Stuart was the richest man on 
the island; yet he and his family continued to occupy the 
poor, shabby, little, ill-furnished cottage which they had 
erected with their own hands when they first landed, and 
although they sold the finest silks and brocades to the wives 
and daughters of the other wealthy settlers, they themselves 
wore only the plainest and most sombre fabrics that con¬ 
sisted with respectability. 

People would have called them a family of misers, but 
for their goodness of character in other respects, and for 
the undeniable fact that they were by far the most liberal 
contributors to the church and to the poor — not only in 
their own island, but in all the other islands around them. 

Another thing that puzzled the mercantile men of the 
place extremely was the manner in which Mr. Stuart kept 
his books of business. They soon began to take note that 
he kept two ledgers and two distinct sets of books — the 
one set small, the other set very bulky. Some of the more 
audacious among his customers ventured to peep over his 
shoulder, and discovered that the small set contained noth¬ 
ing but entries of boats made, and repairs to shipping exe¬ 
cuted, and work connected exclusively with the shipwright 
department of his business — while the large books con¬ 
tained entries of those silks, and sugars, and teas, and spices, 
etc., which turned so much gold into his coffers. 

It thus became evident to these men of business that the 
merchant kept the two departments quite separate, in order 
to ascertain the distinct profits on each. They were the 


338 


GASCOYNE 


more amazed at this when they considered that the ship¬ 
wright work must necessarily be a mere driblet, altogether 
unworthy the attention of one so wealthy. But that which 
amazed them most of all was, that such a man, in such cir¬ 
cumstances, could waste his time in doing with his own 
hands the work of an ordinary mechanic — thus (as they 
concluded) entailing on himself the necessity of devoting 
much of the night to his more lucrative concern. 

These long-headed men of business little knew the man. 
They did not know that he was great in the highest sense 
of the term, and that, among other elements of his great¬ 
ness, he possessed the power of seizing the little things — 
the little opportunities — of life, and turning them to the 
best account; that he not only knew what should be done, 
and how to do it, but was gifted with that inflexible deter¬ 
mination of purpose to carry out a design, without which 
knowledge and talent can never accomplish great things. 
The merchant did not, as they supposed, work late at night. 
He measured his time, and measured his work. In this he 
was like many other men in this struggling world; but he 
stuck to his time and to his work, in which respect he re¬ 
sembled the great few whose names stand prominent on 
the page of history. 

In consequence of this, Mr. Stuart wrought with success 
at both departments of his business, and while in the one 
he coined thousands, in the other he earned more than the 
average wages of a working man. 

The Avenger was erratic and uncertain in her voyages. 
She evidently sailed to the principal islands of the South 
Seas, and did business with them all. From one of these 
voyages, Henry, her captain, returned with a wife — a dark¬ 
haired, dark-eyed, ladylike girl — for whom he built a small 


THE SANDAL-WOOD TRADER 


339 


cottage beside his father’s, and left her there while he was 
away at sea. 

It was observed by the clerks in Mr. Stuart’s counting- 
room, that their chief accountant, Mr. Corrie, was a great 
letter writer — that when one letter was finished, he invari¬ 
ably began another, and kept it by him, adding sheet after 
sheet to it until the Avenger returned and carried it off. 
Once Mr. Corrie was called hurriedly away while in the 
act of addressing one of these epistles. He left it lying on 
his desk, and a small, contemptible little apprentice allowed 
his curiosity so far to get the better of him, that he looked 
at the address, and informed his companions that Mr. 
Corrie’s correspondent was a certain Miss Alice Mason! 

Of course, Mr. Corrie received voluminous replies from 
this mysterious Alice; and, if one might judge from his ex¬ 
pression on reading these epistles (as that contemptible 
little apprentice did judge), the course of his love ran 
smoother than usual; thus, by its exceptionality, proving 
the truth of the rule. 

Years passed away. The merchant’s head became grey, 
but his gigantic frame was as straight and his step as firm 
as ever. His wife, strange to say, looked younger as she 
grew older! It seemed as if she were recovering from some 
terrible illness that had made her prematurely old, and were 
now renewing her youth. The business prospered to such 
an extent that, by becoming altogether too wonderful, it 
ceased to be a matter of wonder altogether to the merchants 
of the Green Isle. They regarded it as semi-miraculous — 
the most unprecedented case of “ luck ” that had ever been 
heard of in the annals of mercantile history. 

But the rich merchant still dwelt in the humble, almost 


340 


GASCOYNE 


mean, cottage, and still wrought as an engineer and ship¬ 
wright with his own hands. 

In the little cottage beside his own there were soon seen 
(and heard) three stout children, two boys and a girl, the 
former being named respectively Gascoyne and Henry, the 
latter, Mary. It is needless to say that these were immense 
favourites with the eccentric merchant. 

During all this time there was a firm in Liverpool which 
received periodical remittances of money from an unknown 
source. The cashier of that firm, a fat little man, with a 
face like a dumpling and a nose like a cherry, lived, as it 
were, in a state of perpetual amazement in regard to these 
remittances. They came regularly, from apparently no¬ 
where, were acknowledged to nobody, and amounted, in 
the course of time, to many thousands. This firm had, 
some years previously, lost a fine vessel. She was named 
the Brilliant; had sailed for the South Sea islands with a 
rich cargo, and was never more heard of. The fat cashier 
knew the loss sustained by this vessel to a penny. He had 
prepared and calculated all the papers and sent duplicates 
on board, and as he had a stake in the venture he never for¬ 
got the amount of the loss sustained. 

One day the firm received a remittance from the Un¬ 
known, with a note to the following effect at the foot of it: 
— “ This is the last remittance on account of the Brilliant . 
The value of the cargo, including compound interest, and 
the estimated value of the vessel, have now been repaid to 
the owners.” 

The fat cashier was thunderstruck! He rushed to his 
ledger, examined the account, calculated the interest, 
summed up the whole, and found it correct. He went 
home to bed and fell sound asleep in amazement; awoke in 


THE SANDAL-WOOD TRADER 


341 


amazement; went back to the office in amazement; worked 
on day after day in amazement; lived, and eventually died, 
in a state of unrelieved amazement in regard to this incom¬ 
prehensible transaction! 

About the same time that this occurred Mr. Stuart 
entered his poor cottage, and finding his wife there, said — 

“ Mary, I have sent off the last remittance to-day. I 
have made amends for that evil deed. It has cost me a 
long and hard struggle to realize the thousands of pounds 
that were requisite; for some of the goods had got damaged 
by damp in the cavern of the Isle of Palms, but the profits 
of my engineering and shipwright business have increased 
of late, and I have managed to square it all off with in¬ 
terest. And now, Mary, I can do no more. If I knew of 
any others who have suffered at my hands I would restore 
what I took tenfold — but I know of none. It therefore re¬ 
mains that I should work this business for the good of man¬ 
kind. Of all the thousands that have passed through 
my hands I have not used one penny. You know that I 
have always kept the business that has grown out of the 
labour of my own hands distinct from that which has been 
reared on the stolen goods. I have lived and supported 
you by it, and now, through God’s blessing, it has increased 
to such an extent that I think we may afford to build a 
somewhat more commodious house and furnish it a little 
better. 

“ As for the mercantile business — it must go on. It has 
prospered and still prospers. Many mouths are dependent 
on it for daily bread. I will continue to manage it, but 
every penny of profit shall go in charity as long as I live. 
After that, Henry may do with it as he pleases. He has 
contributed largely to make it what it is, and deserves to 


342 


GASCOYNE 


reap where he has sown so diligently. Do you think I am 
right in all this, Mary?” 

We need scarcely remark that Mary did think it all right, 
for she and Gascoyne had no differences of opinion now. 

Soon after this, Corrie went off on a long voyage in the 
Avenger. The vessel touched at San Francisco, and, while 
there, some remarkable scenes took place between Jo Bum- 
pus and a good-looking woman whom he called Susan. 
This female ultimately went on board the Avenger, and 
sailed in her for Green Isle. 

On the way thither they touched at one of the first of 
the South Sea islands, that they came in sight of, where 
scenes of the most unprecedented description took place be¬ 
tween Corrie and a bluff old gentleman named Ole Thor- 
wald, and a sweet, blue-eyed, fair-haired maiden named 
Alice Mason! 

Strange to say this fair girl agreed to become a passenger 
in the Avenger; and, still more strange to say, her father 
and Ole Thorwald agreed to accompany her; also an ancient 
piece of animated door-matting called Toozle and a black 
woman named Poopy, whose single observation in regard 
to every event in sublunary history was, “ Hee! hee!” 

On reaching Green Isle, Corrie and Alice were married, 
and on the same day Bumpus and Susan were also united. 
There was great rejoicing on the occasion; Ole Thorwald 
and Dick Price distinguished themselves by dancing an 
impromptu and maniacal pas de deux at the double wedding! 

Of Captain Montague’s future career we know nothing. 
He may have been killed in the wars of his country, or he 
may have become an admiral in the British navy, for all 
we know to the contrary. One thing only we are certain 
of, and that is, that he sailed for England in the pirate 


THE SANDAL-WOOD TRADER 


343 


schooner, and seemed by no means to regret the escape of 
the pirate captain! 

Years rolled away. The head of Gascoyne became sil¬ 
very white, but Time seemed impotent to subdue the vig¬ 
our of his stalwart frame, or destroy the music of his deep 
bass voice. He was the idol of numerous grandchildren, 
as well as of a large circle of juveniles, who, without regard 
to whether they had or had not a right to do so, styled 
him “ Grandfather.” 

Little did these youngsters think, as they clambered over 
his huge frame, and listened with breathless attention to 
his wild stories of the sea, that 11 grandfather ” had once 
been the celebrated and much-dreaded Durward, the pirate! 


THE END 


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